Never Let You Go
by papyrusrex
Summary: Ron and Hermione started dating after the war. That's the problem, however. They are Ron and Hermione. They're stubborn, argumentative, and not as honest as they'd like to be. This creates an unsteady journey in their lives. Hiatus.
1. Letters

_A/N: I decided to edit this chapter a little, which was going to be the first chapter in my original plans. (And then I changed my mind, boo.)_

___Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter storyline or its characters.  
The lovely cover art is I Need You Now by sharadaprincess on deviantArt._

* * *

It had been in an afternoon a few days after the Battle, after they'd returned to the Burrow. They'd been sitting by the crabapple trees, talking of unimportant things as they usually did.

"You read the Prophet today," he started, changing the subject. "Are you thinking of returning to Hogwarts?

"Yes, Ron. It's not like I have the education to take the N.E.W.T.S. on July," she smiled, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"You're Hermione Granger. You can start studying right now and still get Outstanding marks on everything!"

Realization hit her face. "You don't want to return to Hogwarts?"

"It's not like I need to. They're offering all of those who fought at the Battle an application to the Auror program without our N.E.W.T.s. That's too big of an opportunity to pass out."

"You're not returning? And I reckon neither is Harry," she added. He shook his head.

Ron forced himself to say the next words out loud. "I'm just going to miss you." Hermione looked at him in disbelief. "Who's going to help me with the theoretical parts of my Auror training?"

Hermione laughed, "You have a way with words, Ronald."

"I meant it, really. I'm going to miss you," he said, holding her hand.

"I'll miss you, too." said Hermione, remembering what Fleur told her this morning. "That reminded me of something. Are we dating?"

"Are you having doubts about it?" he asked.

"No, it's just that it's unclear to me, right now," she said.

"I think we are. I thought you knew," he smiled.

He looked at her lips. He was a sodding Gryffindor, for Merlin's sake. How could he ride a dragon and fight Death Eaters, but not kiss Hermione Granger? Pathetic.

"I didn't."

She'd done it. It was his turn now, he figured.

"And now?" He plucked up all the courage he had and kissed her.

For Ron, their first kiss had been a moment of happiness in a night of grief. He remembers that when the time to conjure Patronuses came, it was the only memory that came into his mind and he had no problem with the charm.

Her kiss had been desperate. His wasn't, but he made sure to fill it with the same passion.

He smiled, his lips still against her.

"Wait until the Daily Prophet hears about this," muttered Ron.

"I will kill you if you-"

"I'm joking, Hermione," he laughed, before kissing her again.

Ron smiled at the memory. May had been an awful month, the worst in his life, with no doubt. He had few happy memories of that month, but they all included Hermione in some way.

He read his letter once again and sent it, before he changed his mind about anything else.

* * *

Hermione placed a Bronte book by her lamp. She thought she'd heard a tap on her window. She opened her window, and Pig flew into her room. Trying to make the bird stay still, she removed the letter.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I'm glad everything went well in Australia. It sounds surprisingly calm, really, unlike things here in Britain while you left. The war is over, but there are still some Death Eaters on the run and everyone's worried about them. Everything is still a little tense._

_Harry and I got our applications for the Auror training the day you left. We've already been accepted. We start training later this week. It seems like they need new Aurors as soon as possible. I don't remember where I heard this from, but apparently the Auror office is now half of what it used to be before the war._

_I've written this bit a million times in my head, but there's always something off. Hopefully, you'll understand what I mean by all this. We can't all be perfect in writing letters like you are, can't we? I've thought about it, and I guess I understand where your parents are coming from. I mean, if a Muggle had forced me to live a completely Muggle life in Australia, I'd want nothing to do with Muggles for a while. I figure it's the other way around for them, except they weren't living a magical life. I don't think they'll last long. Don't worry, we'll see each other eventually. There's always Diagon Alley. I'll miss you, yes, but you should spend time with your parents. Talk with them, eat proper food, those sorts of things. We'll see each other soon._

_I'm also going with George to the shop this week. The poor git needs to fix the shop before opening it. Death Eaters trashed the place after they went into hiding. It'll be hard for him, I guess. Got any advice on what to do if he starts bawling in the middle of the shop?_

_Ron._

Hermione sighed. She'd only been a week in her house, only going to the town in order to buy food or help her parents reincorporate their jobs. She'd promised herself she would try to be in their company as much as possible. She had nothing interesting to tell him.

"Stay here and rest. You can deliver my letter tomorrow," she told Pig. The owl hooted and flew out of her room.

They'd spent only three weeks together before she'd left for Australia without him. She was starting to regret her decision of leaving him behind, even if she still considered it the right thing to do.

"I have to do this by myself, Ron. It's my family," was what she'd always told him.

"It might be dangerous," he always retorted.

They would've spent more time together, but he would've distracted her. Plus, her parents would have not reacted any better if he had been by her side.

In the end, she won.

She sighed. It was too much.

If she'd learned one non-academic thing in her sixth year, it was probably to categorize her feelings. One by one, with the reason of why she felt that way.

She felt happy, of course. He'd written. She knew he barely wrote, but he did it. She felt sad, because she missed him. They'd only spent three weeks together, with all the funerals and preparations for her trip. She felt trapped. She was trapped in her small town with her parents, though it was understandably so.

All she wanted was to be by his side, to laugh and hold his hand.

She wrote her reply the next morning. She knew exactly what to write.

* * *

Ron reread her letter several days later. He had no idea on what to write.

_Dear Ron,_

_Everything is the same since the last time I wrote to you. I don't think you'd be interested in how my parents and I watched television all night. For this reason, I'll be mostly answering to you and commenting on what you said._

_I don't think you got accepted to the Auror training because the lack of Aurors (though that may be one of the reasons). You're Ron Weasley and Harry Potter, two of the team of three that defeated Voldemort. Who wouldn't accept you into the Auror training as soon as possible? Only an idiot wouldn't do that._

_How is George? Is he better? Of course it'll be hard for him. I guess you'd rather just be there for him, there's nothing much to it. What about you? How are you? Just remember to maintain calm, will you?_

_I know that we'll see each other soon, but time is just passing so slowly. I also told my parents about Malfoy Manor the other day. They're now more worried than before, even if I explained that it won't ever happen again. And yes, we'll always have Diagon Alley. Also, I noticed the other day how none of you have come to my house. I'll talk to my parents if maybe you three can come over one day. They've not seen you recently, nor met you properly, that I remember._

_I better return downstairs. We're walking around town today, letting everyone know that our office is open again. I don't know what these people have done without dentists for a year._

_Hermione._

It had started because he had nothing to write to her about. He then didn't feel like talking to her, after going to his brothers' shop for the first time since Fred's death. She would make him talk about it more, something he wouldn't appreciate at that moment. After that, he was too tired to think his reply through.

He sighed. He couldn't let it go on forever. He stood up and looked for a parchment. He thought of what to say and wrote it.

It was concise and not at all how he wanted it to be, but it would do.

* * *

Hermione returned to her bedroom and opened her window. It had formed into an habit, having not received a letter from Ron. She opened it during the nights while she talked to her parents downstairs, in case Pig came.

One night, she was lucky.

_Dear Hermione,_

_The training is tough, alright. No wonder there aren't more Aurors. There are physical, mental, and theory tests. I don't think I'd make a good job in describing them through a letter. Why don't we leave this topic for when we see each other? All the trainees going to Grimmauld Place tonight as well as tomorrow to study. We're all Hogwarts students, most of us were in DA. It's a little like old times. We have our first theory test in three days. It's not a lot of material, but we want to get it right._

_The journey to the shop was bad. George tried to pull it all together, but he failed within five minutes. We're going little by little, cleaning by sections. Ginny's going with him today. I need to study a little before going to Grimmauld Place._

_I'm writing this in a hurry, sorry. I hope you understand. I'll write again with more details, if you want._

_Ron._

_PS. In moments like this, where I say I'm going to study, is when I think you're being a bad influence on me._

She sighed. She realized how he hadn't answered her question on how he was. She was sure she'd asked him that on his previous letter. He thought he was a master at avoidance, but he wasn't.

When they'd been together before Australia, their relationship had been mostly physical. Not that Hermione wanted to complain or anything, but she didn't feel comfortable. Grief for Fred's death still hung around and Ron didn't want to talk about it. At the slightest mention of him, he'd change the subject, leave the room, or kiss her.

She'd accepted it, but it was now over a month after the Battle. She didn't know how it felt to lose a brother, but it would have to end eventually.

She sighed. At least he'd written.

She wrote her reply, but decided she would send it in a few days. If he made her wait for a letter, he'd would have to wait too.

* * *

Ron fell into his bed.

"I'm never going to move," he said.

His resolution was broken within less than five minutes when he remembered Hermione's last letter. He ignored his aching shoulder and arms as he reached out the piece of parchment.

He smiled at her structured handwriting and how it differed from his.

_Dear Ron,_

_Things may be busy around here, but that doesn't mean they're interesting. I'm helping around the office as a secretary. There had to be staff changes around, and I'm doing it as a summer job. I'll interchange most of the money for Wizard money at the end of the summer. By the way, have you talked to Bill about our Gringotts accounts? The goblins should let us use our accounts soon._

_Of course the training would be tough, Ron. Why do you think Aurors are so respected? But I can't believe you're studying two days before a test. I guess people do change, after all. Now, I hope you don't make another trainee do your work like I had to do yours. It's not school anymore._

_I'm glad George is slowly recovering. I noticed you didn't tell me how you were. Please tell me? I'm also worried for you._

_I asked my parents, and you, Ginny, and Harry can visit us soon. We didn't speak about a date, but I'll tell you when they decide of a date._

_Take care,_

_Hermione._

Someone knocked on his door. He looked at his watch and saw it was seven o'clock, when Kreacher always served dinner. He sighed.

When he returned from the shop, later in the night, he debated between sleeping and writing her a letter. He decided on the latter after remembering the next day was Sunday, which meant he could sleep as late as he wanted.

He tied the letter in Pig's leg. "Don't wake her up," he muttered. "Deliver it during the day."

The tiny owl hooted and flew out of the window. Ron fell asleep in a matter of minutes.

* * *

Hermione looked up from her scrambled eggs and toast. Pig was in the window.

"Letter from Ron?" her mother asked.

"Yes," she mumbled as she retrieved the letter from the owl's leg. "May I be excused? I'm no longer hungry."

"Sure, but remember to be ready in an hour," replied Mr. Granger.

"Thanks, Dad."

Hermione went up to her room and opened the letter.

_Dear Hermione,_

_A week and a half into training and I think the word tough is an understatement. They explained that they want us to become full fledged Aurors in two years instead of the normal three. We'll be able to be on the field in a year. This makes everything more intense and horrible. If it weren't because it's the only way to become an Auror, I'd quit, honestly. You should see Harry, though, he loves it._

_I'm as alright as I can be, Hermione. Don't worry about me, please. I'm sad at times, but I'm getting better. I like being busy, it helps me. I just don't like to talk about it much, because then I can't stop thinking about him. But I'm fine, better than George and mum, at least._

_I think it's good you're also keeping busy. Although a secretary sounds just as dull as not doing anything, if I'm honest here. I'm looking forward to visiting you. What about using the tellyphone? I'm not sure if I mentioned this on the previous letter, but I'm living in Grimmauld Place with Harry now. It's easier to get to the Ministry and Diagon Alley from here. I'm sure a tellyphone wouldn't be hard to find on Muggle London. I'm not sure, though, I guess you would know more about this than me. (Just like in everything else.)_

_Hope you're all right,_

_Ron._

She'd been worried about him for almost a week. She sighed of relief, even if she had no proof for his words.

That night, Hermione wrote to Ron.

"Send it tomorrow morning," she told the owl as she tied the letter to its leg. "Wouldn't want to distract his studies or to wake him up, wouldn't we?"

* * *

He unfastened his shoes. They were going to kill him from exhaustion if the Auror training kept going as it was.

He heard Pig's hoot to his left.

He stood up with an effort and retrieved the letter in his leg.

_Dear Ron,_

_I'm glad you're well, even if you're exhausted. It seems like being a bittersweet thing, the Auror training. It sounds like you spend less time studying, but you're not because everything is compressed. Yet, you become an Auror quicker. Hope everything is alright._

_I don't know how it's like to lose a brother, Ron, so I'm not sure if my words will do justice. First, what everyone says, that it gets better. It's not easy, I don't think so. But one day you'll remember him and the pain will be less. That's not a bad thing. I'm sure Fred would rather have you laugh at his memory than mourn._

_Being a secretary is not boring! Well, it's better than doing nothing. Yes, I'm sure we can talk through a telephone, but not tellyphone. You can find some around Muggle London, some payphones. You'd need Muggle money for that and you would have to ring me. Are you still up to it?_

_Please take care,_

_Hermione._

He missed her terribly. They hadn't seen each other in a month or so, when he'd gone to the airsport to welcome her back to England. And then, they only saw each other for about five minutes, for she and her parents had a train to get on time.

He didn't remember how a telephone worked, but if it meant he could hear her voice, he would find a way.


	2. Tellyphone

"Alright. I insert the coins, mark the number, and wait until she receives the call?" Ron asked Harry.

"Pretty much, yes. Just don't yell and you'll be alright," smiled Harry. "And one of her parents may receive it first, so introduce yourself and ask if Hermione is there."

Ron followed Harry's instructions, who walked away. He heard a weird ringing noise coming from the receiver, until it stopped.

"Hello?" asked a voice from the other side of the line.

"Uhm, hello, this is Ron Weasley. Is Hermione there?" he asked, in his normal voice. Harry gave him a thumbs up and stepped away.

"Ron, it's me," the voice chuckled. He recognized it as Hermione's.

"Blimey, these things change your voice a little."

"They do, but just a little. I could tell it was you," Hermione said.

"Well, you've got more experience with tellyphones than me," Ron defended himself.

"Telephones, Ron, telephones," corrected Hermione.

"That's what I said."

"You did not say telephone."

"I did. Merlin, am I ever going to get the chance to prove you wrong about something in the same way that you do?" Ron smiled. "I'm joking, by the way. Not sure if you can tell by the telly- telephone."

"I can tell, don't worry." Ron thought she sounded like she was smiling.

"So, how are you?" asked Ron, twisting the phone's wire cord with his fingers.

"I'm good, Ron. Everything is pretty much the same from my last letter," answered Hermione.

"How is that job doing? What do you do?" he asked.

"It's going good. I just call people into the offices when they're about to examined and receive orders from my parents or their helpers. When I'm not doing that, which is most of the time, I'm usually reading," explained Hermione, "But how are you?"

"I'm fine," he said, finding silence on the other side of the line. "Are you there?"

"I'm here, Ron."

"I'm getting better," he sighed. "I'm still busy, but when I don't feel as bad when I'm not. And it's only been almost two months. I can't expect to be good so quickly."

"I know, I'm just worried for you."

"I'm alright, Hermione, relax. If you can't, at least remember I could be worse," added Ron.

"You're right. How's George?" she asked.

"He's also getting better. I think I saw him smile the other day, but I'm not sure." He answered.

"And training? I hope it's not too tough," she continued.

"It's tough, alright, but we've been through worse." Ron laughed, "I think the trainers are a little disappointed. Most of us are veterans of the Battle of Hogwarts, so there's not much of a challenge in some of the tasks."

"Who else are on Auror training? Other than you and Harry?" asked Hermione, curious.

"There's Neville, Susan, Terry, and Anthony, from the DA. There's also two other Ravenclaws and one Hufflepuff, I'd never talked to before. One of them took Ancient Runes with you. It was Elle, I think," informed Ron.

"Oh, yes, I remember her. She was really smart," she said. "Are you allowed to tell me about the training?"

"The training is simply these kinds of courses you take. It's a little like in school, with trimesters," explained Ron. "There's twelve courses, we'll take eight the first year and four the next. Like Tonks had said before, you need to pass them with high marks to continue to the next courses. We're taking Self-Defense and Physical Training. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays are Physical Training. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays are Self-Defense."

"Sounds exhausting," commented Hermione. "At least most of you have a headstart on the Self-Defense course."

"We do, but there's loads of stuff we didn't know. Now that we're a month in, we're starting to see how little we knew," said Ron. "That course's alright, not too challenging. Physical Training's what's got us all exhausted."

"Have you thought that maybe that's intentional? They've got you all tired for the Self-Defense courses. By Saturdays, you'd be at your weakest point," analyzed Hermione.

Ron was silent for a while, "I think you're right. You're amazing, you know that?"

"Well, I know you seem to think that," replied Hermione.

"Hermione, you are-"

They were interrupted by a beeping voice coming from the phone. "Your call will terminate in a minute," informed him a female voice. "Add more coins to continue the call."

"What was that?" asked Ron.

"It's an automated message, Ron. Just add more of your coins, and we can continue talking like before," replied Hermione.

Ron followed her instructions. "Why are they all so similar?" Hermione laughed from the other side of the line as he inserted random silver coins. "I think that did it, thanks. You're amazing."

"Thanks, but you can stop it now, Ron," she said.

"Stop what?"

"You don't have to compliment me every thirty seconds," explained Hermione.

"But I want to. Plus, it's the truth. Isn't that why we took so long to get together? Because we weren't entirely honest with each other?" asked Ron.

"About our feelings, we weren't, pllus other difficulties," she agreed. Ron heard her sigh. "I miss you."

"I miss you too, Hermione," sighed Ron. They remained in silence for some moments. Ron wondered if the call had ended. If it had, he concluded, he would call her again. He'd memorized her phone number.

"We'll see each other in two weeks, though," finally said Hermione. Ron smiled, but it faded away.

"Any advice about meeting your parents?" he asked nervously, to her amusement.

"Not much," she chuckled. "Be yourself, really. They've already heard a lot about you throughout the years. Plus, you don't have a lot pressure because Harry and Ginny will also be there."

"That doesn't really answer my question," muttered Ron.

"Alright, Ron, if I had to say something... Don't talk while you chew your food."

"I think I can do that," smiled Ron.

"You can't tell because we're on the phone, but I'm rolling my eyes right now. Don't worry, they already like you from all I've told them about you," Hermione said.

"Oh, so you can't stop talking about me, then?" Ron teased.

"Don't flatter yourself so much," she laughed. "We talk a lot, now that I don't have to be careful about worrying them."

"You witheld a lot of storied from them before?" he asked, to his amazement.

"Of course, when I was younger, I didn't want them to take me away from Hogwarts because it was so dangerous. Then, when Voldemort returned-"

"Hermione," he warned, "the name's tabooed. What are you doing?"

"Ron, it's no longer tabooed, remember?" she reminded him.

"Oh, right, sorry. It's hard to break habits," he explained. "Sorry, you were saying?."

"When Voldemort returned, it was natural to do so," she continued. "Now we don't have to worry about Voldemort anymore, so I can tell them all I didn't before. It's better late than never."

"That's how you spend your hours outside of their office?" asked Ron.

"I mostly read somewhere along the house, but I sometimes join them by the television or play board games with them. We're usually sharing stories while we do the last two," explained Hermione.

"Bored games as in boredom?"

"No, as in a board. You've never played a board game before?" asked Hermione, incredolous.

"Does chess count as a board game?" he asked back.

"I think so, as well as draughts. Oh, you'll have to play some when you come visit! It'll be fun!" she exclaimed.

"Should I also be excited?" he asked cautiously.

"Yes, wait and see what I'm talking about," she said. "My parents and I will teach you how to play."

"You've told me your parents are temptists?" asked Ron, changing the subject.

"Dentists, Ron, dentists," she corrected.

"That's what I said. Anyway, I've known you since I was eleven and I still have no idea what that means," said Ron.

"It means they clean people's teeth," explained Hermione.

"That sounds... interesting," he commented.

"It doesn't, you can say that," she laughed. "As long as you don't tell my parents that, it's alright."

"No, but really, it sounds a little interesting. They don't clean them with a normal toothbrush and toothpaste, don't they?" asked Ron.

"No, Ron," laughed Hermione, "they don't."

Hermione explained the dentistry process as well as she could. Around twenty minutes later, Ron had managed to grasp the overall process. He heard some muffled voices coming from Hermione's side of the phone call.

"I should get going," Hermione sighed. "I need to help my mum make dinner."

"Alright, I guess I should go and see how George is around the shop. He was restocking today. There's been lots of customers this first week," said Ron.

"You'll call next Sunday?" she asked, her words slow with doubt.

"Of course, Hermione," he smiled. "I'll write, too."

"Great, I'll also write. I miss you."

"I miss you, too."

They remained silent for a while, until the muffled voices were heard again.

"Goodbye, Ron."

"Bye, Hermione."

He heard her sigh and set down her receiver. Ron did the same, stepping away from the telephone. He saw Harry sitting down in a bench a few meters away, reading a book.

"What next?" he asked Ron as he saw him walk towards him.

"I was thinking we could go to check on George. Don't know if you want to follow along," answered Ron.

"Then we go to The Burrow?" asked Harry. Ron furrowed his eyebrows. "Ron, it's Sunday. You know your mum will kill us we if we don't go to dinner."

"Right, of course," he said. "Well, let's go."

They walked to a nearby alley, Disapparating to George's shop.

* * *

_A/N: Alo! __I hope you__ enjoyed this one, even if it was a little short. __I wrote this chapter at the last minute yesterday. The idea just came up and I decided Ron trying to phone Hermione would be a good chapter while I finished this week's. _

_I decided to leave this week's chapter for the next one. I figured I wouldn't finish it before Sunday, because I'm going to visit family. I think (hope, actually) that you guys will like it. _

_If you celebrate Easter, happy Easter! If you don't, happy Sunday! -A_


	3. Greeting the Grangers

Harry walked down the stairs to Ron's room.

"Ron, are you ready?" He saw him standing in front of the mirror. He was wearing a green buttoned down shirt, jeans, and a belt.

"Is this okay?" he asked, looking at Harry.

"You look like a Muggle," he answered.

"But how do I look?"

"You look fine to me," he shrugged. Ron sighed and looked at his friend's similar attire. He turned back to the mirror. "I'm going to get Ginny. If we come here and you're not ready, she'll help you."

"Thanks," muttered Ron.

Harry Disapparated on the spot to the Burrow. Ron looked around for the rest of his clothes, finding for something more suitable.

Some minutes later, Harry and Ginny found Ron wearing a blue polo shirt instead.

Harry smiled, "I'm sure Hermione won't mind how you dress."

"It's not Hermione I'm worried about, it's her parents," he said.

"Turn your belt brown," advised Ginny. "Now stop fidgeting."

"We'll wait for you downstairs," said Harry.

"No funny business!" bellowed Ron, following Ginny's instructions.

"You wish!" exclaimed Ginny from below. Ron sighed.

Ron looked at himself in the mirror, now with a brown belt. He liked it. He hoped Hermione and her parents would too. He read the address in her most recent letter, to be sure. It was just as he remembered it. He sighed, relaxing for the first time in the day.

He went downstairs where Harry and Ginny were sitting on the sofa. Harry moved away a little from her and turned to see Ron. They both laughed.

"What?" asked Ron.

"Nothing, let's just go or we'll be late," laughed Harry.

"Are you two laughing at me? Is there something wrong?" asked Ron, worrying once again.

"No, everything's fine, Ron," giggled Ginny, calming down. Ron raised his eyebrows. "Really, it's fine, let's just go."

They grabbed hands and Disapparated.

They found themselves in front of a wide, two-story house. There was a green car parked beside it. It was surrounded by trees and silhouettes of the neighboring houses.

"No magic," reminded Ron.

They knocked the front door. It opened a few seconds later, revealing a smiling Hermione.

She embraced Ron. He responded enthusiastically, forgetting where he was.

"Hey, Ron, we also want to greet Hermione," muttered Harry. Ginny elbowed him, trying to scold him as she tried not to laugh. He shrugged, also grinning.

They broke apart, blushing. Hermione greeted Harry and Ginny.

"Come on in," she smiled. They went inside the house, which proved to be open, but simple. They went into the sitting room, which had a television in a corner. Behind the sofa stood a dining table. They could see Hermione's parents by the kitchen.

"Mum and dad, this is Harry, Ginny, and Ron," said Hermione. She pointed at them as she introduced them. "Guys, these are my parents."

"Let's go outside, shall we? It's fresher there," said Mr. Granger, taking them all outside. Mrs. Granger took a plate of bread, tomatoes, and cheese and placed it on the circular table.

"That looks nice, Mrs. Granger," noted Ron.

"Thanks, Ron, but please call me Jean," she said.

"I'm David, by the way. We just feel like we're in the office when we hear people call us like that," he explained.

"Well, I'm going back inside to finish lunch. You want to help Hermione?" asked Jean.

"Sure, mom," said Hermione.

"Can I help, too?" asked Ginny.

"Of course," she said. Ginny followed them inside.

The three of them went into the kitchen, where Mrs. Granger checked something in the oven. Hermione got food from the refrigerator, identical to the one outside.

"Is that a refoodinator?" asked Ginny, looking at it.

"Refrigerator," smiled Hermione.

"I was close."

"Very close."

"Wizards don't have them?" asked Mrs. Granger.

"No, we simply use a Conservative Charm," explained Ginny as she grabbed a slice of bread.

"That's interesting. I left some behind," she added, talking about the food, "since Hermione told me about Ron's appetite. I figured that between him and David, they wouldn't leave us anything."

"I can see where Hermione got her smarts from," smiled Ginny. She grinned even more when they both blushed.

"Thanks, but David's the smart one. I just know my material," she said.

"How has your summer been, Ginny?" asked Hermione.

"It's been a little quieter now that Ron has moved out, but it's okay," she replied. "I've been going to Luna's house a lot, helping her around the house."

Hermione winced, "Tell her we're sorry, when you see her again."

"Sure," she said. "I've also been helping George around the shop when Ron's at training. Business is alright."

"Will one of you get the lettuce and tomatoes?" Ginny volunteered to get the ingredients from the refrigerator.

"Ginny, you're in the year below Hermione, right?" asked Jean, while cutting the lettuce.

"Yes," answered Ginny. "Actually, no. Hermione and I will be in the same year in September."

"That's nice," she said. "At least you'll have one of your friends in the castle."

"Yes, that's true," muttered Hermione. "Which reminds me, I've not studied in a year. I should read the books before September."

Her mother nodded, authorizing such action. Ginny laughed, "Hermione, I'm sure you already know them by heart."

Outside, the men were talking about different things. As expected, they were not talking about school.

"So how did you two meet Hermione?" asked David.

"Hermione didn't tell you?" asked Ron.

"Actually, I think not. I think she just said she befriended you two," he explained.

"How much of this story are we supposed to tell you?" smiled Harry.

"Just tell me what happened. That's what Hermione does," explained her father.

Harry and Ron told him the story of the Halloween troll, and how they saved Hermione from it. Her father laughed at part but remained silent after a while of it.

"You know, I've been slowly realizing this as Hermione tells me more and more stories about Hogwarts. It's not really the safest place, isn't it?" he asked.

"It's really safe," answered Ron, but thought better of it after answering. "Actually, no I see your point."

"Depends on your definition of safety, really," said Harry.

"Yeah, stuff like that happens from time to time, but nothing ever bad happens... In the end," added Ron.

"And it we did go looking for trouble, most of the time. If you keep your head down, nothing will happen," agreed Harry.

"I guess I can't complain," noted her father. "They are teaching you how to protect yourself with all that danger around."

"Exactly."

"Here we are." They heard Jean Granger's voice behind them.

After some minutes of eating, they found themselves in silence. Ron thought to start a conversation, but remembered that he couldn't talk with his mouth full of food. He better not risk it.

"David, we were talking inside and Ginny is going to be in the same year as Hermione in Hogwarts," said Mrs. Granger.

"Ron and Harry aren't?" he asked. He already knew the answer.

"Uhm, no," said Ron. "We're already in the Auror training. They offered us to go into training without our , so we just went for it."

"Aurors are some sorts of policemen," said Hermione.

"They're not really like policemen," said Harry.

"I know, but there's no Muggle equivalent," explained Hermione. "They're the highest form of security."

"That's interesting," said Mr. Granger.

"Sounds dangerous," said Mrs. Granger.

"It is," agreed Ron and Harry.

"What about you, Ginny? Do you know what you want to do after school?" asked David.

"I want to play Quidditch," she answered.

"That's the sport, right?" asked Jean.

"You two know if it? I never thought Hermione would talk about Quidditch willingly," smiled Ginny.

"We just know it's a sport played on flying brooms," she laughed.

They started a conversation in which they explained Quidditch to Hermione's mother. Hermione looked at her father. He raised his eyebrow. She sighed.

"I think your mother likes them more now," he said.

"Yeah," she smiled. "They do a much better job than I would in explaining the sport."

"Never liked it?"

"If they all didn't play in our House's team, I wouldn't bother going to see the matches," she answered.

"I'm so proud of you."

Hermione smiled. At least she had someone who disliked sports beside her, unlike all the other times they all talked about Quidditch.

"You know, dad," said Hermione, once the Quidditch talk had stopped, "Ginny and Ron have never played a board game before."

"What?"

"I was wondering if I could take out the Monopoly and Cluedo so we could all play?" she asked.

"I'll go look for it," nodded her father, "and the four of you can play."

"Yes, I have to clean all these dishes," noted her mother.

"Uhm, okay," agreed Hermione.

Her parents grabbed the plates and went inside the house.

"How are things in the Wizarding world lately?" asked Hermione, once her parents were out of the hearing range.

"You don't know?" asked Harry.

"Things are that bad?" she asked.

"No," said Ginny, "they're not bad. But you don't know?"

"I've not had the chance to subscribe to the Daily Prophet, plus I'm not sure if my parents would like that," she explained.

"It's... alright." Hermione waited for any of them to explain more properly.

"It has been a lot worse," said Ginny.

"The Death Eaters are in hiding, so there's still the tension. Other than that and some of the still-grieving people, everything is almost back to normal," explained Harry.

"Almost being the key word in that sentence," commented Ron.

Hermione sighed. "Alright, let's play." She stood up and thanked her father.

Hermione opened one of the boxes and explained the game. Harry recognized some of the rules, while Ron and Ginny were entirely new to this experience.

The four of them played, occasionally groaning when something bad happened to their piece. They forgot all of their troubles, for they were now free of all danger. Hermione grinned, not daring to correct herself in that thought.

They were her friends. They weren't the Chosen One and two famous Weasleys. They were her boyfriend and her two best friends.

Ron looked at her as he rolled the dice. He smiled and stroked her ankle with his while he moved his piece. She tried to send him an annoyed look. She knew why he was doing that. He was mocking her, trying to distract her from his move in the board game.

Hermione failed in being annoyed with him. He won. She reciprocated his gesture when it was his turn in the game.

The hours passed easily as they rolled the dice, moved their pieces, mocked each other, and laughed. At some point they were joined by Hermione's father and mother in a game, who told jokes and anecdotes of Australia, respectively.

"This is enough for me," sighed Jean Granger halfway through her second game, she removed all of her pieces. "I'll cook a quick dinner."

"You don't have to do that," said Ron.

"Yeah, we can eat later," added Harry.

"Nonsense, you're our guests." She stood up and walked into the house. Her husband smiled and did the same.

"Do you want help?" asked Hermione.

"No, I'll be alright," she said. "Stay with your friends."

"She likes you," she smiled once she was out of reach. Ron raised his eyebrows. "I don't think she'd let me be here if she didn't." Ron smiled, both by the comment and the stroking of their ankles.

"Never mind that now," said Ginny. "I have to win this last game."

"It's not our fault you're bad at this," smiled Harry. Ginny glared, which only made him smile more.

"Don't boast. You only won most of them because these two are too focused in each other."

Ron's ears reddened. "Shove it."

"Yeah, Ginny, because it's not as if Ron's told us off about anything," smiled Harry.

"You're right. Let's not take advantage of his position right now."

"Really?" groaned Ron.

Hermione laughed. "As long as it's him and not me."

"Oi, don't give them permission."

"Well, it's not my fault," she said, raising her hands in mock surrender. Ron sighed, defeated.

"Don't worry about her," said Harry. "I think you'll be seeing more of the two of us than we'll see of the two of you."

"When we're not in training," explained a serious Ron to Hermione, "they're always together in some way. Always."

Hermione laughed at his somber expression. She looked at her parents behind them. "I think I'm needed in the kitchen. No, they need you, Ron."

"They probably need some muscle," he shrugged. Harry and Ginny exchanged a knowing look.

"Don't flatter yourself," said Ginny, "they probably want to have the talk with you."

"What- oh..."

"You'll be alright," said Hermione. "It's just standard parental protocol."

Ron stood up and walked to the kitchen as Jean Granger left with a casserole in her hands. He stood by the remaining Granger, who was filling a water jug.

"Now, Ron, I know you're a good kid," started Mr. Granger. "But I've noticed how there's not much respect for consent in the Wizarding world. All I'll say is that I hope you respect Hermione."

"Of course, I do! I don't know where we would be if it weren't for her," he nodded. "Plus, I'm not sure what kinds of stuff we're talking here, but I wouldn't risk it. Hermione would kill me, and I'm talking from experience here. Oh," he added, seeing the slight mistake he made in his wording, "but not with the consent and respect part, with the killing me part."

Mr. Granger chuckled and nodded. "We taught her well. Now help me with this, please."

"Of course."

They carried a bowl of fruit salad and the water jug outside, where the plates were already set.

Hermione lightly raised an eyebrow as she saw him. He nodded, but smiled.

"You really didn't need to do this, Mrs- Jean," repeated Ron.

"Eat," she said, with a stern look identical to Hermione's. Harry and Ron glanced at each other and smiled.

The dinner continued with small talk about board games and London.

"It was nice meeting you."

This was heard various times as the Grangers said goodbyes to their guests. Hermione led them outside.

"Had a good time?" she asked them.

"Yeah," answered Ron. Harry and Ginny muttered an agreement. Ron and Hermione realized they were giving them the space they'd longed for throughout all the day. "It was nice seeing you. Maybe you can come to the Burrow next Sunday?"

"I'll see," she said, biting her lip. "I hope so."

"Write to me?"

"Of course."

"Good." Ron kissed her for the first time in a month. They both relished those various seconds. They stood together unmoving. Ron smiled, thinking of how it was similar to their first kiss. Hermione understood and smiled.

"I have to leave, don't I?" he asked.

"Depends on who you ask," she smiled.

"I'll see you on Sunday?"

"Hopefully."

"Hopefully."

He quickly kissed her again, as a final goodbye.

Ron walked to his sister, held her hand. The three of them Disapparated to Grimmauld Place's sitting room.

Harry and Ginny sat down talking, but Ron didn't listen to their words.

_Fuck._ He'd just gotten used to not having Hermione by his side, and now he had to start once again.

* * *

_A/N: It's finally here. Also, I just realized the last time I updated was in March. Oh, okay. I'm sorry. _

_If you don't want a lot of explanations, life came up. If you're curious, I had lots of dance practices for my school's talent show last week, while I studied for my three AP tests (which were this week). I took my last one, PreCalc, yesterday. Now I'm sort of free to write._

_Thanks for reading and the feedback I've been getting. I mean, they made me feel guilty because I couldn't write, but I like them! _

_Hope you liked this chapter. -A_


	4. Summer Sights and Flights

Hermione Apparated to the border of the the Burrow's protective barrier. Having recognized who she was, she passed through it and walked to the kitchen's door.

"Hermione, dear!" was the first thing she heard as soon as she entered the house. She was hugged by Mrs. Weasley.

Hermione smiled at her and greeted Harry and the Weasleys around the table. They chattered lightly about Muggle artifacts. Harry and Ginny were talking about Quidditch and decided to walk outside. Ron made a gesture, asking if they should do the same.

Ron and Hermione walked off from the Burrow, holding hands.

"How was this week?" asked Ron.

"Same as the previous one. It's becoming so monotonous," sighed Hermione. "I love my parents, but I want to return to Hogwarts."

"I'm also a little surprised they let you come here," said Ron. "Not that I'm complaining."

"It took some negotiation to let them agree, but we can go wherever we want on Sundays," smiled Hermione.

"Really?"

"Yes."

Ron pulled Hermione a little and gave her a kiss. They lingered, having missed their presence for a week. He smiled.

"Where do you want to go next week?" he asked, starting to walk alongside her once again.

"I thought you'd want to take your pick. I didn't really think about it," she replied.

"Well, I don't know much places," he said. "And you're here today, so I guess it's your turn."

"What about Oxford? It's near me, so I wouldn't be pushing the boundaries with my parents," she explained. "You've ever been there?"

"No, but I know there's a small wizarding community there. Shouldn't be too hard to Apparate there," he said.

"If you find out where to Apparate, tell me. It would save some money."

"Sure, I'll owl you. I'm sure Dad or Bill know."

"I've been thinking," started Hermione. "I should get an owl, shouldn't I?"

"Would make communication easier. Also, you can't borrow Hedwig or Pig anymore when you're at Hogwarts," he sighed.

"It's decided then. I'll get one when I go to Diagon Alley. Which reminds me, has Harry bought a new owl?" she asked.

Ron sighed, relieved from the change of subject. "No, he doesn't have an owl at the moment."

"How was your week?" asked Hermione.

"Exhausting. Some of my limbs still hurt from all stuff they made us do this week," he said. "I mean, I don't see how climbing a tree and then jumping to another will be useful, but if they say so..."

"That sounds exhausting," she agreed. "Oh, do you want to sit down?"

They sat down at a small hill, near the empty Quidditch spot.

"I think they're pushing us so much to see if any of us is thinking of quitting," he noted.

"Has it worked?"

"Maybe we've thought about it for five seconds, but we're all intent on becoming Aurors. You can feel it."

"How's Neville taking everything?" she asked, remembering the list of Auror trainees Ron had told her.

"Very well, actually. From what Ginny and him have told me from their last year at Hogwarts, he's prepared for this thing," he said.

"That's nice. Not the things that happened to him, you know, but that he's prepared," she explained.

Ron smiled, "I understand, don't worry."

He leaned towards her, much to her pleasure. She mocked him with the tip of her tongue, to which he responded by doing the same. They teased each other, as they did when they were simply friends.

Throughout their relationship, they'll both alternate in being the one to continue to the following step. Hermione initiated their first kiss. Ron took the courage at this moment to stop the teasing.

Hermione knew she'd never been good at defining her feelings quickly. She acted upon them when it wasn't unreasonable, but many times she didn't know what she was feeling until later on. She knew it was nearing to a Muggle cliché, but in that moment she knew.

She pulled him closer. The next thing they knew, they were also in contact with the dry grass. They ignored it and continued with their silent celebration of their reunion, which couldn't be done the previous Sunday.

They were interrupted when they heard loud voices near them. Ron was the first to notice and thought they might me going on another direction, but they kept increasing in volume. Hermione also noticed. They stopped, hearing the voices.

They sighed and moved away from each other. They saw Harry and Ginny in the not-so distance, as the other pair also noticed them.

"Oh." The four of them looked to the floor, unsure of what to do. If any of them looked at another, it was done quickly, before looking at the floor once again.

"So, um, do any of you feel like playing Quidditch?" asked Harry. Ginny looked at him, eyes wide. He shrugged.

"Sure," said Ron, standing up.

"I'd rather not," said Hermione.

"But it's an odd number if you don't play," he said.

"Actually, I just wanted to practice a little," interjected Ginny. "We don't have to play a game. You're a better keeper than Harry, Ron. Why don't you help me?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "What? You're rubbish at keeping!"

Harry laughed, "I'll stay here with Hermione, then."

Harry sat down by Hermione as Ron flew with Ginny.

"Long time no talk, Harry," she said.

"We saw each other last week, Hermione," he smiled.

"Yes, but we didn't really talk but, didn't we?" she noted. He shrugged. "How are you?"

"I'm good. Never been better, really."

"That's good. I think we all deserve a lifetime of tranquility after this year, specially you."

"I agree. I'm really looking forward to that," he said. "Aurors have the most peaceful job, you know?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I know."

"Yeah, you'd think after all the stuff I've been through I'd avoid that career," he noted.

"Ron tells me you like the training. I really don't see you working as anything else, so that's good," she said.

"Yeah," he sighed. "And you? You still want to work with S.P.E.W. after Hogwarts?"

Hermione laughed. "Sort of. I was a bit bad with acronyms in fourth year, wasn't I?"

"Very."

Harry and Hermione continued talking about their future while watching the Weasley siblings practice Quidditch up in the air. They'd missed talking to each other and were making up for it. They both smiled, feeling the freedom they had after the war.

"Ron, stay still. You're making me anxious," muttered Hermione.

"I can't stay still," he said. He continued shaking his foot.

"Of course you can. Just stop moving your foot," she sighed, intertwining her foot with his. This didn't prevent him from continuing the movement.

"I can't stay still. Like, didn't we learn in Astrology that the Earth is always moving?" asked Ron. He looked at Hermione, who was amazed to hear him say such thing. He smirked.

"You learned something in Astrology?" asked Ginny.

"Hermione, you're such a bad influence on Ron," said Harry. Ron and Hermione sighed. "What?"

"Nothing," replied Ron.

The four of them laid on the grass some hours later, looking at the cloudless sky. Hermione was snuggled agaisnt Ron. Harry and Ginny were side by side, hands intertwined.

"I just realized something. Now that Voldemort's gone and the war is over, or should be, what are we supposed to talk about?"

"I know, we usually just talked about something related to him or schoolwork," said Harry.

"Yeah, and we're not in Hogwarts anymore," shrugged Ron.

"Well, some are," pointed out Hermione.

"Some are. That doesn't mean I want to talk about who'll be the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will be," said Ron.

"You really think it was cursed?" asked Ginny.

"Let's not do this."

"Come on, let's be realistic. I mean, seven teachers in seven years and Voldemort wanted the job before? Of course it was."

"Let's face it, they're both schoolgirls."

"Which reminds me, do you want to buy our school things together?"

"Unfortunately."

"Sure, we'll owl each other once the letters arrive."

"Do you guys want to play Exploding Snap?" asked Ron.

"Please," answered Harry. Hermione and Ginny agreed.

Ron stood up and went inside the house. Hermione turned to Harry and Ginny.

"What was wrong with him?" she asked.

Harry tilted his head just slightly, thinking. He looked at Ginny, who was wondering the same thing. He sighed. "Look, we just don't need to be reminded that you're both going to Hogwarts on September and we're not."

"But you both chose to go to training," said Ginny. Harry gave her a pointed look.

"Oh." They both understood. The idea of returning to Hogwarts was less inviting now, for the company they were used to would no longer be there.

They sat on the grass as Ron returned with a pack of Exploding Snap.

They played the card game, forgetting about the previous topics of conversation. They were four friends, trying to pass the time as well as they could without touching uncomfortable topics. They laughed, yelped, and groaned throughout the multiples games they played. They were just four friends.

After dinner was served and all the Weasleys and guests were done at the dinner table, Ron and Hermione embraced near the magical barrier.

She pulled away a little, just enough to be able to look up to him properly. "Next Sunday at Oxford?"

"Of course," replied Ron.

She kissed him, continuing their goodbyes. Moments later, she walked outside the barrier. She waved goodbye, as did he.

Hermione Disapparated. Ron sighed.

* * *

"Hi," said Ron, leaning towards her for a proper greeting.

"Hi," greeted Hermione. She appreciated his embrace, oblivious to the Muggles around them.

They'd Apparated to a wizard spot in the city of Oxford. Ron waited for Hermione as she paid for her subscription for the Daily Prophet.

"Where do you want to go?" asked Ron, holding her hand.

"Anywhere but back in there," she sighed. "Some people don't know it's rude to stare. Is it usually like this now?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "You decide where to go. I've never been here."

"Have you read the newspaper?" Ron shook his head. "There's this park we can go and read it. Unless you're interested in going to the library."

"The park is good." She rolled her eyes and started walking in the direction of the park. He followed her. "It's worse when you're with Harry, though," he added. "At least the Ministry is now used to us."

"I'll have to get used to that, too?"

"Yeah," he shrugged. "You can count on Ginny to hex anyone's who's bothering you, though. I don't think she'll mind."

"I do."

"If you help her with her work, you're both winners."

"Ron."

"What?"

"I'm not hexing anyone," she answered.

"Technically, it would be Ginny." This received a glare from Hermione. "Alright, just giving you an idea. Forget it, if you want."

They reached the park, finding a spot beneath the trees. They sat down and spent the morning there, alternating between reading the newspaper, commenting on it, and kissing. It would seem as a superficial way to describe their actions, but that is a broad draft of their actions until a few hours later.

"Let's go get lunch somewhere, shall we?" suggested Ron. "I'm hungry."

"You're always hungry," noted Hermione. They smiled. "Luckily for you, I'm also hungry. We choose the first place we see. Deal?"

"Deal," nodded Ron.

They walked around the city of Oxford, their hands intertwined. There was something about being able to hold each other hand that they both loved. It wasn't an act of friendship anymore, and it served as a constant reminder. They smiled, chattering lightly.

They found a small cafe. They entered and sat down on a booth at the back of the place. A waitress came up to them and gave them the small menu.

They read the menu silently. The waitress returned with their glasses of water glasses. They ordered their food, returning their attention to each other after the waitress left.

"You know, I quite like this," commented Ron, looking around the cafe.

"We've only been here a few moments. I guess it's alright," shrugged Hermione.

"No, not that," waved Ron off. "I meant being in the Muggle world with you. We're not Weasley and Granger around here. We're just Ron and Hermione."

"I guess you know this better than me," sighed Hermione, "since you've been around the Wizarding world this summer."

"You can at least take comfort in the fact that Ginny will probably hex anyone who bothers both of you," smiled Ron.

"Let's see," she laughed. "But you're right, I like the anonymity of being in the Muggle world."

"Let's come here more often, then."

"Next Sunday, then." They smiled. Hermione's grin widened as she took notice of the song that could be heard from the cafe's sound system. "I like this song."

Ron kept silent, also listening to the song. It had mellow, rough male voice, with a drum and other instruments he couldn't recognize. The lyrics said something about cheap wine and cigarettes. He chuckled. "You like this song?"

"Yes, why?"

"I would've never thought you'd like songs like this," he shrugged.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," she said, cautiously. "The lyrics are meaningful."

"Of course."

"_Try a little, nothing is forever_," she sang, not caring what Ron thought. "_There's got to be something better than in the middle._"

"See? I don't think I'd find out things like this if we weren't here."

"I'm sure you can listen to me sing badly anywhere else," she pointed out.

"Not to a song you like," he explained. "Plus, you're not that bad."

"Key word being _that_," laughed Hermione. Ron rolled his eyes.

The waitress arrived with their food: two different kinds of sandwiches and chips. They were soon too busy eating to talk, but they kept listening to the song.

"I've got an idea of what we can do next," said Hermione, once she'd finished eating. She'd gotten the idea from the advertisment that could be heard. Ron raised his eyebrow. "Have you ever heard of a movie?"

"A what?"

"A movie. It's like a moving picture, but... well, I don't know how to explain it."

"You want to see one?" Hermione nodded. "Sure, let's go. As long as we get to the Burrow in time for dinner."

"Really, Ron?" she laughed. "We're eating lunch and you're worrying about dinner?"

"Just because mum would kill me if we don't go," he explained.

"I know, I'm just teasing you," she smiled.

"I'm being a bad influence on you," he smiled.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "But a movie would take three hours, at most. We would have time before going to the Burrow."

"Alright, let's figure out where we can find a movie and let's go," nodded Ron. "But the main thing here, are you going to eat those chips?"

Hermione laughed. "No, take them."

Ron looked at Hermione. He enjoyed making her laugh more than he ever thought he would. He reached to her plate and grabbed a chip, to make his point. She rolled her eyes, but all he could see was the smile on her lips.

"So, you just pick one?" asked Ron. Hermione nodded. "Any one?"

"Yes, they're all different, too," she said. "There's usually one for all of the tastes. Action, adventure, horror, comedy, those sort of things."

"Which one do you want to see?" he asked.

"I don't know. None of these actually capture my attention," she shrugged."Why don't you choose your first movie?"

"I'm not even that sure of what a movie is. I'd probably pick a bad one," he complained.

"So? It would be your first movie," she said. "It's not like you have another one to compare it with."

"Good point." He looked at the movie posters in front of them. He pointed at one that looked like a weird sun. "What about that one? It's got a weird name. Should be a little interesting, I guess."

"I have no idea what it's about," muttered Hermione. "Sounds fair."

Hermione guided him to the ticket booth, where they bought them for half an hour later. They walked inside, leaning against the wall.

"So what exactly is a movie again? Other than a moving picture?' asked Ron.

"I don't know," smiled Hermione.

Ron rolled his eyes. "As if you don't know everything."

"I don't know /everything/, Ron," blushed Hermione. "I'm just not going to tell you. You'll see in a while."

Indeed, he did see in a few minutes what a movie was. It wasn't simply a moving picture. Hermione had understated the brilliance of it. It was more like a pensieve, except that it wasn't real. At least not necessarily, he learned later from Hermione.

"You really liked it then?" smiled Hermione.

"Well, the movie was good, I guess. But I like the concept," he answered. "What about you?"

"The movie was alright. I prefer books, you know?" she shrugged. "I'm glad you liked it, though." Ron smiled. "Do we have time before going to the Burrow?"

He checked his watch. "We've got some time, yeah. Want to go back to the park?"

"Sure," she said, holding his hand once again. He squeezed it and walked in the direction of the park.

Once in the park, Hermione pulled Ron towards her and kissed him.

"Alright," he mumbled, walking off the pebble road and into the trees beside them. Hermione kissed him once again.

"I like Oxford," she mumbled.

"Me too," he smiled, his lips slightly against hers. He returned her gestures.

They spent the rest of the time they had left reminiscent of the start of their day. Ron and Hermione sat down by the trees, seemingly unaware of all the people around them. They kissed and talked and kissed again.

As he'd said earlier that day, they weren't Ron and Hermione. They were simply a young couple in love. Love that seems wonderful, but isn't always so.

* * *

_*The song in the cafe is One Headlight by the Wallflowers._

_A/N: I hope this chapter doesn't suck. I tried. I'm not fishing for compliments or anything, I just feel shitty and therefore feel the chapter is too.__ (Can I say that word on my A/Ns? Meh.)__ I hope it doesn't reflect on my writing, though. Again, not fishing for compliments. Sorry, I just always try to write no matter what life throws at me and well yeah._

_This is a weird thing to ask, but my friends would all freak out and not help at all... I'm kind of, sort of, in need of some relationship advice. About the lack of one, actually. Like, yeah. If you feel up to it, message me and I'll tell you what it's about. If not, well, ignore all this. _

_Sigh, I think my problem with this chapter was the lack of conflict. There's some coming up, if any of you are like me and were wondering._

_Thanks for everything, really. -A_


	5. Falling Out, Falling In

Ron and Hermione sat by the trees, just enjoying the breeze and each other's presence after a nice lunch by Mrs. Weasley. The leaves above them were falling by the gentle wind and the lack of water. They were both surrounded by small leaves. Their enjoyment was picking them from each other's hair.

Hermione reckoned they seemed childish, but she didn't care.

A figure was walking towards the house. Hermione saw the ginger, tall Weasley, but couldn't name him.

"Is that Bill?" asked Hermione to an also observing Ron.

"No, I think that's either Percy or George. Bill would've brought Fleur," he added.

"How is he?" she asked. "George, not Bill and Percy."

"He's alright," he answered, after some deliberation. "Some days I have to do all of his work while he just looks at space, but the number of them have decreased. He's a lot better than when we started."

"Don't you think he was too quick to re-open the shop?" asked Hermione.

"He took nearly two months," said Ron. "I think that's enough, no?"

"What about you? Are you okay?" she asked.

Ron sighed. He had hoped Hermione wouldn't bring it up. Over the years, he'd noticed she sometimes didn't know when to stop asking or answering questions. He should've known she would ask him. He felt the grip on his hand tighten for a short moment of time.

"You can tell me, you know," she said.

"I know I can. I just don't want to talk about it," he sighed.

"Well, if you want to talk, you can always tell me. Send me an owl or whatever you wish," she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Why would I want to do that?" he asked. It wasn't the real question he wanted to ask, though. He wanted to ask why he would want to do that. If he did so, it would only make both of them sad.

"In case you want to feel better," she said, as if it were obvious. He looked at her and found her worried gaze upon him.

"Well, thanks, but I'm not a girl. I don't need to talk about my feelings to feel better," he said, uncomfortable by her staring. He could tell her about the nightmares he sometimes had about Fred's death, but he didn't. He didn't want to worry her anymore. "But thanks."

"Oh, alright," was all she said, as she placed her head on his shoulder once again.

"Let's just drop the subject and talk about something else if you want," he said, but she stood up. He watched her shake the leaves off her clothes, leaving behind some unnoticed ones in her hair.

"No, I think I better leave. I don't feel that well," she sighed. She looked everywhere except him.

"Oh," he said, also standing up. "I'll walk you to the barrier."

"No, it's okay. I can walk by myself. You don't need to do it if you don't want to," she said. He opened his mouth to say that he didn't mind, but she cut him off. "It's okay, Ron, I'm sure. Goodbye."

_If he doesn't kiss me, he's mad at me_, thought Hermione.

_She seems to be mad at me_, thought Ron. Maybe it was because he refused to talk about Fred, or maybe it was something else. _She wouldn't want me to kiss her if she's mad._

They both stood there, oblivious to the internal dilemma that was going through the other's mind.

"Goodbye," he said.

Hermione faked a smile as she turned around. Once she was out of his hearing range, she sighed.

He followed her when she was farther away. He knew the magical barrier prevented uninvited guests inside, but after all the war, he couldn't let his guard down. He had to make sure she at least Disapparated safely. He owed her that much.

She didn't look back. She thought there was no need for a bigger disappointment if she didn't see him behind her.

She felt the difference once she passed the barrier. She turned around and saw nothing behind her, proof of the working shield.

From inside the magical barrier, Ron saw Hermione turn around. She smiled sadly and turned on the spot.

...

"Where's Hermione, dear?" asked Mrs. Weasley as she saw him sit down alone.

"Oh, she went to her home. Said she didn't feel well," he muttered. Mrs. Weasley nodded and continued the conversation she was having with Percy.

Harry caught Ron's attention and raised his eyebrow. Ron wasn't surprised to see he hadn't fooled his best mate. He sighed. Harry raised both of his eyebrows, to which he shrugged. Harry rolled his eyes.

* * *

Hermione sighed, closing the book she'd been trying to focus on for the last hour. It was midday on a Sunday and she was reading on her bed. There was nothing wrong with this picture, except the day. All she wanted to do was to be with Ron, wherever it was.

She'd gotten no letters from him, however. He was definitively still mad at her, or he would've written.

She groaned. She missed him. She didn't want to wait for him to send her a letter, she realized. She'd go to him and apologize as she needed to. She stood up and picked some clothes.

"Mum," she said, "I'm going to Ron's place in London, alright?"

"London? Stay safe, then," her father said, who was seated beside his wife.

"Don't worry, dad, the house is safe. Protective enchantments and such," she said, hastily kissing their cheeks before leaving the house.

...

Ron laid on his bed, reading a textbook. He hadn't received any letters from Hermione this week, so he reckoned she was still mad at him. He didn't know why she was so mad at him over such a simple thing. Maybe he'd ask her once she was no longer mad.

He sighed. He'd wait for her to calm down. It was what he always did and it always worked, eventually.

He'd started studying for this week's Auror training, seeing as he had nothing better to do.

...

Hermione walked around Grimmauld Place, looking for one of its inhabitants. She found one on the sitting room, reading the Daily Prophet on the sofa, albeit it wasn't the one she was looking for.

"Harry," she asked, grabbing his attention. "Is Ron here?"

Her friend cocked his head. "I think so. He should be in his room." Hermione raised her eyebrow. "Third landing."

"Thanks, Harry," she said, leaving the room.

"Nice to see you too, Hermione," he muttered under his breath once she left.

She reached the third landing and saw two closed doors. She knocked on the one she knew wasn't a bathroom.

"Yes?" she heard Ron's voice say.

Hermione opened the door, knowing he was expecting Harry, not her. She guessed correctly, she figured, from the way he looked at her when he saw her.

They remained in silence, observing each other. Hermione smiled a little at the sight of a textbook in his hands.

"You're reading?" she asked, still smiling.

"Uhm, yeah," he answered as if he had forgotten about his book. "Studying, really."

"Studying?"

"Yeah, for this Friday. I think Harry and Ginny were right, you're a bad influence on me," he smiled. He mentally kicked himself for saying such a thing in a moment like this. "Not that it's bad, you know. It's just that-"

"I'm sorry," she interrupted. Ron sat straight as she did the same in the corner of his bed.

"For what?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she asked back.

"I thought I was the one that had to apologize. I was going to say it, honestly," he said, "but I kept on talking and... Does this mean you thought I was mad at you?"

"Yes," she nodded, a small smile forming in her lips. "And by your reactions, I gather you thought I was mad at you?"

"You weren't?"

"No," she sighed. She started laughing at their own stupidity. Ron found it hard not to be infected by it. He motioned her to sit by him, which she did.

Ron somehow reached a conclusion with the tempting distraction of her lips. He smiled.

"We're such idiots, Hermione," he laughed, which only made her laugh more.

"We've known each other how long, Ron? Seven years?" she sighed. He nodded, waiting for her point. "I think we should've learned to communicate properly by now."

"Somehow we haven't. We should learn, shouldn't we?" he asked, looking at her.

"We can learn to read our minds," she noted. Ron smirked, noting humor she used around him. "Let me see that book."

"Of course," he said, rolling his eyes. He returned to his position before Hermione arrived, with her presence in a similar position. "Look, I was thinking the other day and I wondered how useful this spell would've been last year."

"Would've kept a lot of people safe," she muttered. "So this is the book you all use in your training?"

"In our Self-Defense one," he nodded.

He watched her browse the book. It made him smile, noticing small details about her. How she tilted her head when she stopped to read something. How her eyes scanned the pages before passing them.

"Stop staring," she sighed.

"I'm not staring," he defended.

"No? What are you doing, then?"

"I'm observing. There's a difference, you see."

"When did you become so observant?" she asked.

He rolled around. He smiled at Hermione and placed his hands behind his head. "I've always been observant. You just haven't noticed."

"Oh, are you saying I'm not observant?" she arched her eyebrow, a smile on her lips.

"That depends," he smiled.

"I'll let you know, Ronald," she said, in mock anger, "I'm more observant than you."

"If you say so," he shrugged.

"The trapdoor under Fluffy on first year," she mentioned.

"I definitively saw that first. I mentioned it and you came up with the theory."

"Is that so? That's not how I remember it," she smiled.

"Really? I do," he smiled.

"Your argument is invalid."

"Moving on, I'm hungry. Are you hungry? Let's get some food," he said quickly, getting up from the bed at the same pace.

"Sure, but this doesn't mean your argument is valid," she replied, standing up and following him out of the room.

"What? My argument is completely valid. I don't know what you're talking about," he chuckled, now in the landing below her.

"Wait for me. Don't use the unfair advantage of your lanky legs," she exclaimed, following him into the sitting room. She found Harry in the same scene in which she'd left him before.

"Oi, my legs are not lanky," he said to Hermione.

She shrugged, "If you say so."

He hid a smile before turning to Harry. "We're getting lunch. Do you want to come?" He saw his friend's expression. "Or we could bring you the usual?"

"The latter sounds better. I don't feel like going outside," he answered.

"Alright, see you later," he said, turning around.

"Are you going to the Burrow later?" asked Hermione.

"Of course," he replied. Hermione smiled and waved as she left the sitting room.

"There's this deli a few blocks away," Ron said, going down the steps. He offered his hand to Hermione as they walked down the street. "We always have lunch there on the weekends. It's very good."

"What about Kreacher?" asked Hermione, wondering why the two wizards weren't using the house elf that could cook them anything.

"We decided to give him the weekends off," he answered. "He cooks half of our lunches and all our dinners on the weekdays, including when the rest of the trainees come over to study. I think he deserves a break, don't you think?"

"You give him the weekends off?" she repeated.

"That doesn't stop him from cooking if he sees it's late and we haven't eaten yet," he added.

Ron looked at Hermione, who'd stopped walking and was looking at him. He arched his eyebrow. She smiled and kissed him.

"This seems similar for some reason," he smiled as she pulled away. Hermione looked at him, still in his arms. "I should talk about house elves more frequently."

Hermione laughed. "Didn't think about that."

"See? I'm very observant," he joked. Hermione rolled her eyes.

They walked hand in hand to the deli Ron told her about. It was simple, nothing out of the ordinary. They ordered their food and sat in a table by the window.

"Muggle?" asked Hermione, after observing the static pictures of sceneries by the walls.

"Of course. We would've Apparated here if it wasn't," he replied, looking for a waiter.

Hermione faked a sigh. "And I thought we were doing it for the romance."

"You need to be careful with that new humor you've got," he smiled. "I'm afraid it's a bad habit you've picked up somewhere."

An employee called Ron's name and he picked up their lunch from the counter. They were two rather simple, meaty sandwiches with chips on the side. It only took a bite for Hermione to realize that these were delicious.

"Merlin! My hand fell,' he exclaimed, grabbing a few chips from her plate.

"The key word being fell," she smiled. She grabbed a chip from his plate.

"It really did fall." Hermione rolled her eyes. He chuckled.

...

"You know, one time when I was a kid and with all of the accidental magic, I turned my mum's hair blue." Ron roared with laughter. She blushed, "I didn't know how I did it or how to fix it, so she had to go to a hairdresser. She says she got quite a laugh over there."

They were sitting against the headboard in Ron's bed, a few hours after lunch.

"I don't think your mum would look good in blue," he chuckled. "Brown suits her more.

"She didn't look good," she agreed. "It was a bright blue, too."

"One time mum was cooking, right? I don't know why, but I didn't want to eat whatever it was she was cooking. So, by any seven-year-old logic, everything on the stove-top went on fire," he told her, smiling. Hermione's eyes widened as she tried not to laugh. "Everything was fine. Mum put it out quickly. There was no way to fix the burned food, though, so she had to cook something else."

"Good thing that didn't happen while we were on the run," she muttered.

"Why? Because I complained about your cooking?" he asked. Hermione nodded. "Your cooking was more than fine, given our resources. That was mostly pent-up frustration, I swear. It had to release it and somehow you were the target. Sorry about all that."

"It's okay," she shrugged. "Were you mostly frustrated about how weren't doing anything?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "We don't have to talk about this if you don't want to. It's all over now."

"It is. Alright, one time, back in primary school, I was reading in the park-"

"You had a park in school?" he interrupted.

"Yes, all primary school have a small park for the children." She saw Ron's expression of wonder. "You didn't go to primary school? Before Hogwarts?"

"No, mum taught us everything we had to learn. Dad wanted to, but they both decided it would be difficult keeping our magic a secret," he answered. "But go on."

"Right," she nodded. "This girl starts mocking me about reading in a park. Because it's a park, you should be playing and not reading, you know? Somehow, a lot of the sand from the sandbox ended up all over her."

Ron laughed. "No one suspected anything?"

"No, they just said a blow of wind moved all the sand," she smiled. "It's the rational Muggle answer."

"Did she bother you anymore? The girl?" he asked.

"No, neither did anyone else. No one forgot and they seemed to blame me. They didn't dare to do anything. No one wanted to be poor Shirley and have buckets of sand all over them," she explained.

"So you didn't have any friends?"

She shook her head. "You and Harry were my first friends."

"What about Neville?"

"What about him?"

"I thought you were his friend before us. You were looking for his frog on the train," he reminded her.

"Oh. He was friendly, but we weren't friends," she explained. "I think I annoyed him too much, also."

"You were an annoying first year," he chuckled. It earned him a playful punch on the shoulder.

"I was, wasn't I?" she asked, hiding her face on his shoulder.

"It's le_vio_sa, not levio_sa_," he mocked.

"Well, you were saying it wrong!" she exclaimed.

"I was. You were right about it," said Ron.

"Well, I'm glad I did so, even if it led me to a mountain troll," she sighed.

"Me too. I mean, just look at where that troll got us."

Hermione smiled. She looked at him and realized how freckled Ron's face was. She quite liked it.

They kissed. she silently requested mor of him, which he gladly agreed to. He pulled her closer. She might have been beside him, but it didn't feel that way. She sat in his lap.

Her hands nibbled with the upper button of his polo shirt. His hands roamed a part below hers. Their hands became victims of their antics, reminiscent of the days they said nothing about their mutual attraction.

"The door," moaned Hermione. He fumbled for his wand on the nightstand and closed the door with a flick of it.

At last, one of them took the brave step. They looked at their shirtless partner.

Ron looked at Hermione. At the curve of her waist, her breasts, and her lips. He'd dreamt of this moments more times than he'd ever admit, but this surpassed his dreams. This was real. And, Merlin, was she beautiful.

Simultaneously, Hermione was observing Ron. She'd seen him bare chested before, but had always been too embarrassed to look for more than a few seconds. It dawned on her that she would have all the time in the world now. There was nothing stopping them from being together. And, God, did she want to be with him.

They fell in again, their hands being the bravest part of them at the moment. They now nibbled at the other pieces of clothing. Skirts and belts were the hands' focus. A moan, a groan, a shaky breath were normal sounds.

The rational part of their minds made itself heard, even if it was just a whisper.

"Hermione?" mumbled Ron against her lips. "We should stop."

"We should," she mumbled back, but it didn't stop her. "It's too soon."

"Harry's downstairs," he added. He pulled her closer.

"Or upstairs," she said. She played with his hair.

"Sodding Harry," he groaned. Hermione chuckled.

"At least he hasn't interrupted us yet. He has a knack for doing that, even if he doesn't mean to," she said, thinking of their first kiss. She acted upon her thoughts.

"That's true. He became more aware over the years, though," he mumbled. He smiled against her lips.

"Poor Harry. He had to deal with us for so long. Imagine that," she smiled. It was hard not to when he was too.

"I think I would've gone mental." Hermione pulled away slightly and chuckled. "What?"

"So would've I," she gasped in between laughs.

Ron laughed along. It was hard not to laugh when she was around him doing the same.

"Do you want to reheat the chips?"

"Sure."

They wasted time with reheated, soggy chips, transfigured water glasses, laughs, and lots of talking. It wasn't as much wasted as invested, really.

They didn't think about Hogwarts, the Auror training, or anything else that reminded them about the outside world. It reminded them of the responsibilities they had and how these were the ones that kept them apart. They would also be the things that would prevent them from being together in the future, but only slightly. However, they didn't matter in that moment.

They were together, laughing, talking, eating, and sharing. That was all that mattered in that moment.

* * *

_A/N: I wanted to post this chapter yesterday, for a 2/May celebration. In my defense, I started this chapter on 1/May. Good news is that I'm unofficially done with high school, so I have more writing time._

_Hope you liked this chapter. I quite like it, but that doesn't mean much._

_Thanks for the support! -A_


	6. Learning to Let Go

"Oh, Hermione, it's so good to see you again," exclaimed Mrs. Weasley, once Hermione entered the Burrow with her trunk and owl cage in town. She embraced her tightly.

"Mum, you saw her last week," said Ginny, smiling behind her mother.

"Yes, yes, but before that I worried for almost a year," she said. Ginny shrugged. "Anyway, you can take your trunk to Ginny's room. The boys will arrive in less than an hour. I'll call you when they're here.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," smiled Hermione.

"Dear, I think you passed that stage a long time ago. Call me Molly." Hermione nodded.

Hermione followed Ginny to her room. She looked around, seeing the trunk open in a corner. "You haven't packed yet?"

"Yes. I just haven't finished," said Ginny, sitting down on her bed. "It's weird, isn't it? Thinking this is your last year at Hogwarts."

"Completely," sighed Hermione, sitting down beside her. "I don't know what I'll do after leaving."

"You'll create some laws for the house elves and I'll play Quidditch for the Harpies," shrugged Ginny.

"I meant on the first of the September," smiled Hermione.

"Oh, right. Did it feel weird for you last year?"

"Not going back to Hogwarts?" Ginny nodded. "Yes, very weird. I knew I hadn't taken my N.E.W.T.S., but I wasn't at school."

"Only you would think about it like that," she smiled.

"What?"

"You thought of your N.E.W.T.S.," explained Ginny. "I'm thinking of how most people I spent time with last year won't be at Hogwarts."

The Quidditch captain and the Head Girl talked about the previous year on Hogwarts. Ginny told her about the people on her year, specifically the Gryffindors. It was the only thing Hermione felt unprepared for. Almost everyone she knew wouldn't be at Hogwarts. Ginny knew her classmates, but she didn't.

A voice rang out from below, calling them for dinner. They looked at the mirror quickly, for it meant the arrival of their boyfriends.

They ignored the conversation Percy was having with his parents at the dinner table and had one of their own.

"There's no chance for you two can come to King's Cross tomorrow?" asked Hermione. Harry and Ron shook their heads.

"We weren't the only ones to ask, but the answer was still no," answered Ron.

Ginny looked at Harry, eyebrow arched. He shook his head once again.

"Our lunch break is at midday. We're starting a new course tomorrow, too," said Harry.

The girls sighed.

"Oi, I wonder how this Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will be."

"I wonder if this one's going to last, actually," said Ginny. "I know it's not cursed anymore, but that doesn't mean it won't happen."

"It's a retired Auror," announced Harry.

"Yeah," agreed Ron. "We don't know which one, though. That's all we've heard."

They talked about the prospects of having a retired Auror as a teacher for DADA. They all agreed the probabilities of him being a good professor were high. Harry wondered who it would be. Ron laughed at the idea that he wouldn't last much in the post, agreeing with his sister. Hermione was more excited about the extensive knowledge she could learn.

Dinner went more quickly than the four of them would've liked. All the conversation between mouthfuls of food didn't help as much as they'd hoped. They walked outside when Ron and Harry announced they should be leaving.

"I don't want to leave. I don't want to go to Hogwarts," said Hermione, outside of the Burrow. She hugged Ron.

"I doubt that, Hermione," he smiled.

"True. I want to go."

"It'll be alright," he muttered.

"I'll miss you a lot," she said, looking up. "There's no Sundays with you there."

"We have the two Hogsmeade trips," he said, trying to be hopeful. His mood was matching hers more in each second that passed, however. "And Christmas holidays."

"I have to spend some of Christmas with my parents," she reminded him.

"Shit," sighed Ron, "and we just got together."

"I know," sighed Hermione, without a scold for his language.

"I'll write. I'm rubbish at it, but I'll try my best," he said.

"Thanks," she smiled. "I'll write too."

He pressed his lips into hers. He pulled her closer. Her hands were at both sides of her face. He loved it.

No, he didn't just love it. He'd thought of it before, but now he knew. He loves her.

They looked at each other. Her thumbs stroked his jaw.

"I'm going to miss you so much," he sighed.

She buried her head in his chest. He stroked her hair, thinking.

He'd told her he loved her before, but it was before they were together. It was over an essay she helped him in, or stuff like that. He'd never really told her. He couldn't say it now. They'd only been together for a few months. She'd think he was some kind of freak.

"We should get going."

They sighed and broke away. They saw Harry and Ginny talking a few feet away. They walked to towards the barrier along with them.

"Don't forget about me," said Harry to Hermione.

"Of course not," she smiled. As if anyone could forget about him, let alone one of his best friends.

They boys waved at them from outside the barrier and Disapparated.

"Well, Ginny," sighed Hermione. "It's just you and me now."

"We'd better get used to it," said Ginny, as they walked back to the Burrow. No matter what they would both do or say during the next year, neither would get used to not having Ron and Harry around.

* * *

"Come on, Ginny, wake up," said Hermione as she shook Ginny's shoulder.

"I'm getting up," she mumbled.

"We'll miss the train," continued Hermione.

"That'll be good," she groaned. She opened her eyes, but closed them as soon the light was perceived. "How are you even awake at this awful hour?"

"I prepared myself properly for Hogwarts. And it's nine in the morning, not an awful hour. Get up!" she added. Ginny groaned. "You're so much like Ron!"

"I'm up! I'm up!" she said, instantly doing what she'd said. Hermione smiled at how her friend got up at the comparison. "Don't ever say that again."

An hour after breakfast and last minute packing by Ginny, they were inside the Howarts Express. They separated moments later, because Hermione had business to attend to in the Prefect's compartment. She returned once everything was done. She found Ginny alone in their compartment.

"Hey, Ginny. What happened to, um, your friends?" asked Hermione, unable to remember the names.

"They all went to look for other people. Demelza went to buy something off the trolley. I felt like being alone for a bit," she answered.

"Oh," said Hermione. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, really. I'm just going to miss Harry," she sighed.

"I know the feeling. This is going to be a long year, isn't it?"

"And tough. At least they're safe this year. There won't be as many distractions as before, though," said Ginny.

"You can always strategically schedule a lot of Quidditch practices" advised Hermione.

The door slid open as Hermione spoke those last words.

"Meh."

"Ginny Weasley, did you just say 'meh' to Quidditch?" asked Demelza Robins as she sat down in front of her teammate.

"Well-"

"Blasphemy!"

"Hello, Hermione, I heard you're Head Girl this year," mused Luna. Hermione startled, having not realized Luna had sat down beside her.

"Oh, yes. I'm Head Girl. Justin is Head Boy," said Hermione.

"That's lovely. It seems that's how it should've been last year," she added.

"Who held the positions last year?" asked Hermione.

"The Slytherins, Draco and Pansy," she mumbled, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Oh." It was the first time Hermione had ever seen Luna express dislike towards something. They observed the other two girls talk about Quidditch, who were so engrossed in their conversation that they didn't notice the silence on the other side of the compartment. She had to admit, she'd always been a little jealous of. "I never understood how anyone can bond so easily over Quidditch."

"The same way anyone can bond over books, I suppose," replied Luna.

"True," acknowledged Hermione. "Quidditch seems more popular, though."

"It seems so, yes. I never found it so thrilling, however," said Luna.

"No? But you're such a fan of the Hogwarts games," asked Hermione.

"Yes, but not enought to talk about it in the say way they do," she said, looking pointedly at Ginny and Demelza. "It's just nice to look at and root for your friends."

"I know. If it weren't for Harry, I would've never gone to a Quidditch game. I just went to support him, Ron, and Ginny," said Hermione.

It dawned on Hermione on how Luna was more agreeable when she wasn't talking about off things the Quibbler only published. Or really, she was just a very intelligent, and very eccentric, girl with high standards for friendships. She wondered why she'd never been more friendly with her before.

Luna realized how Hermione, though narrow-minded, could understand foreign matters after a little help from others. There were lots of foreign matters she didn't understand yet. The other thing she realized was that Hermione didn't have much friends. Definitively, Hermione needed her friendship for than she had thought.

"Do you know about the water from the Fallacious Fountain in France, Hermione?" asked Luna.

"The what?"

Yes, Hermione would benefit from their friendship.

"The Fallacious Fountain? Its waters were the ones that made mankind liars," she explained.

Hermione remembered why she and Luna didn't get along so well. She thought of what Harry and Ron, would do in a situation like this. Ron would laugh and dismiss her. Harry would let her explain and later change the subject. She thought the latter was more polite.

"Really? I'd never heard of it," said Hermione.

They talked on the way to the castle, for Ginny eventually changed the subject. Hermione smiled when she did so. Ginny rolled her eyes.

The feast was welcomed by all the students, specially Hermione. Not that she'd ever admit it to anyone, but she'd missed the house elves' cooking. The welcoming speech by Headmistress McGonagall was one of appeal for student unity for the well-being of all.

"Sounds like she took a verse from the Sorting Hat," snorted Ginny. Hermione glared at her. "What? It's true."

"I've got to go," she said to Ginny after the feast. "I've got a meeting with McGonagall and Sprout."

Ginny left with the rest of her housemates, while Hermione met with Justin Finch-Fletchley at the middle of the Great Hall.

"Hello again, Head Girl," he smiled.

"Hello again, Head Boy," she nodded. "Did you get the message-"

"About the meeting with the Headmistress and Professor Sprout?" he finished.

"Yes," she answered, surprised at how he knew exactly what she would say. "I was thinking on the train, how come we never talked much?"

He shrugged, "I never bothered to make much friends other than Ernie and Hannah. I'm a little forced to make other friends, now that they're not here. Not that I don't enjoy your presence."

"I know what you mean," said Hermione. "It's not like many people find me a candidate for friend, so I stick with those who like me. Books, too."

"Exactly," he nodded, "especially books."

"Not to jump to conclusions or anything, but I think we're going to get along well," smiled Hermione. He smiled too.

Hermione looked around her new dorm a new hour. Her bed was the only one which wasn't occupied. She recognized Ginny's trunk beside the bed at her right. She climbed to Ginny's bed. Ginny put down her edition of Quidditch Weekly and looked at her friend.

"We sorted out this term's Hogsmeade trips," announced Hermione. "The next one is the Saturday before Halloween."

Ginny retrieved her calendar from her trunk. "That's in seven weeks!"

"I know," sighed Hermione. "I don't think I can move it so it's sooner. It would leave a big gap between it and the next one. The next one's on the second week in December."

Ginny swore. "What are we going to do in the meantime, Hermione?"

"I'll do my Head Girl duties, you'll have your Quidditch duties, and we'll both study," she replied. "I don't know if it'll be enough, though."

"You'll be the one who'll study," added Ginny.

"You don't study?" asked Hermione, her eyebrow arched.

"Barely," she answered. "You don't need O's to play Quidditch."

"Well, studying is better than moping around," noted Hermione.

Ginny thought about it. Hermione was right. She knew she'd start studying to distract herself at some point in the term. "I doubt it's better, but you have a point."

"Of course I do," said Hermione.

"Alright, there, don't get too cocky," smiled Ginny. Hermione chuckled. "I guess I have a little experience here, but I still don't know what to do."

"I think this is the first time in my life that I don't know either," admitted Hermione. "I mean, writing letters and visiting Hogsmeade? Surely, there must be something else."

"Sorry to break it to you, but there isn't," said Ginny.

"How do people even do it? This long distance relationship thing?"

They didn't know. They remained there, laying in Ginny's bed.

"I should go to my own bed," yawned Hermione.

"Good, because you're warming up mine," muttered Ginny as Hermione stood up.

"Nice to know my company is wanted," she hissed, before closing her curtains. They both smiled and wondered how Harry and Ron's day had gone.

There will be many nights that would end in this way, they both realized sadly. And there will.

* * *

_A/N: This is more of a transition chapter. Things will finally pick up soon. Hallelujah. I find it's a lot easier to write when there's conflict somewhere._

_Also, I think I'm going to start updating more frequently. I promise nothing, but I think I'm going to be updating every five days or such. Again, I promise nothing._

_Thanks for the support I've been getting. __I hope you liked this chapter. It's finals season for many people, so good luck!_

_-A_


	7. Of Loneliness and Lingering Letters

_A/N: There's this saying in Spanish... Amor de lejos es amor de pendejos. __(Pardon my French, or Spanish.) _

_Basically, it means: Love from afar is love for idiots. I don't think idiots is the most accurate translation, but it's the most appropriate here in this website. _

_That's all I'll say, folks._

* * *

It was nearing the end of the second week at Hogwarts. Hermione didn't know how she'd done it, but she'd survived.

Everything was different. There were only very few familiar faces surrounding her, and she knew she didn't belong with them. She missed Ron. She missed Harry. She even missed Parvati and Lavender gossiping while she was trying to sleep.

An owl hoot brought her back to reality. Austen, her owl, stood beside her unfinished breakfast.

Her heart leapt at the prospect of receiving a letter from Ron. She retrieved it from Austen's leg. Her heart plummeted. It was from her mother. She'd forgotten she was the last person she'd written to.

"Hermione," said Luna, from beside her, "we should leave now if we want to get to Ancient Runes in time."

She commanded Austen to wait for her at the Owlery. She'd go later, with another letter and a treat.

She read her mother's letter on the walk to class. It was nothing out of the ordinary. Just stories from home and a few news from the Muggle world.

"I gather that's not a letter from Ron," noted Luna.

"Not really," sighed Hermione. "It's from my mum. Not that I don't like getting letters from her, but I thought this one was by him."

"He'll write Hermione," assured her Luna. "It'll take a while, though. I never found Ron might be able to write letters quickly."

"Why now?" asked Hermione, hoping for a valid reason.

"Too many Wrackspurts," explained Luna.

Hermione smiled. "Yes, that might be it."

They took their usual seats, in the upper corner of the room. Hermione smiled as Professor Babbling started the class. Schoolwork and her Head Girl duties were the only distractions she had. Not that she had much of a choice, with all of the work their professors gave them. Unlike Ginny, she welcomed the effective distraction.

"Ginny." Hermione called out her friend's attention later in the night. Ginny looked up from her Charms textbook. "He gave you the map, didn't he?"

"_The_ map?" asked Ginny. Hermione nodded. "Yes, why?"

"Do you think you can lend it to me? Just for tonight's patrol?" asked Hermione.

"Why do you want it? Are you shacking up with Justin?" asked her friend.

"No, of course not!" scoffed Hermione, horrified. "I would never do that! I'm just asking because it would make it much easier and we could use the time to do our Arithmancy homework."

"Arithmancy homework. Is that the kind of ideas of romance the Heads have?" Hermione glared at her. She chuckled. "I'm just winding you up. I'll lend it to you. Just don't lose it."

She opened her trunk and retrieve it from its top layer.

"Why do you say I shouldn't lose it? Do you use it?" asked Hermione as was handed the map.

"Of course not. It's Harry's and I wouldn't want to tell him I lost it," she half-lied. Even if she was a good liar, she knew her friend wasn't fooled.

She met with Justin at the Prefect's Room. They chattered lightly about their duties and courses, until they reached the corner of the corridor she was looking for.

"Just would you do me a favor?" asked Hermione.

"Depends. I don't want any trouble," he replied, placing his hands in his pockets.

"I need to go to the Owlery. It's the only moment I can go," she explained.

"What if I find someone?"

"I'm trusting you with this secret. You can't tell anyone about this," warned Hermione. Justin gave him Hufflepuff's honor that he wouldn't, something that made her smile. She took the Marauders' Map from her pocket.

"A parchment?" he asked.

"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good," she muttered, with a scoff. "As if."

Hermione explained the map to a shocked Justin. No one was outside of their dorms, nor any professors were roaming around.

"Now, I'm not going to give it you, sorry. It's not mine. I'm going to the Owlery."

Without waiting for an affirmation, she set up the stairs leading to the Owlery. Her wandlight high, she reached the top.

"Austen," she called out.

Many owls hoots answered, but only her red-speckled, brown owl flew to Hermione. She took her letter out of her pocket.

"This one's for Mum. After that, can you go to Grimmauld Place, to Ron? Don't leave until he gives you a letter. Understood?" The owl hooted. Hermione sighed, still unsure on how receptive owls were. "Good, because I'm not writing to him until he writes back."

The owl hooted again before flying out of the tower.

She checked the map quickly and saw that nothing had changed. She found Justin where she had left him.

"Are you sure you're a Gryffindor? Because that was very Slytherin of you right there," he said.

"Yes, I'm sure. Now, have you done your Arithmancy assignment?" He shook his head. She smiled. "I normally wouldn't do this, but I'm this desperate. Why don't we use our resources and do our Arithmancy assigment?"

"There's three charts due for tomorrow. I'm also desperate, so let's go."

They chattered back to the Prefect's room. They established a system so they could check the map and work on their assignments at the same time, something they would do many times in the future.

It wasn't until a few days later that Hermione received her reply from Ron.

She'd finished her breakfast with Ginny and Luna. She'd walked off, when her name was called.

"Hermione!" It was Ginny's voice. She turned around and saw her owl beside her friend.

"I'll catch up with you later, alright?" Luna nodded and continued her way off to Ancient Runes.

She sat down beside Ginny, who was reading her rejected Daily Prophet. She retrieved the letter from Austen's leg, along with a small box. She smiled. It was by Ron.

She'd awaited for so long that she opened the letter slowly, unable to believe it. She read the first sentences. It was his sloppy handwriting, his humorous way of writing.

She felt someone staring at her and looked up. Indeed, Ginny was staring at her.

"What?" she asked.

"Don't you have class on the other side of the castle?" smiled Ginny.

Hermione's eyes widened. "Oh my... Merlin!" She stormed out of the Great Hall.

She hurried across the corridors, but her mind stayed on Ron's letter. She was happy about two things.

Firstly, she'd replied. He'd taken two weeks to do so, but he'd done it. Second, this letter was longer. It was a parchment and a half, a half more than his previous one.

The first letter, and the most recent one before today's post, was inked in Hermione's mind. She knew it by heart after all the times she'd read it. It had talked on how challenging the new course was to him, but not to the others, and how the business at the shop was. The majority of them, however, were mostly on how he wished he could've gone to King's Cross and on how much he missed her.

She entered the classroom at the same time as Professor Babbling, who said nothing. As the class started, all of she could think of was the way Ron had ended his last letter.

_I wish you were by my side,_

_Ron._

She wondered when he had learnt to say, or write, such things. Just thinking of it in her usual seat in Ancient Runes made her blush. She wondered if he'd ended this new letter in the same way.

No, she had to focus. She could think about him and read his letter when all her schoolwork was done. She was in class, not in one of her breaks.

She needed to sort out her priorities.

It was not until the class was working on their assigned translations that she felt once again tempted to read the letter. She finished them as fast as she could, without being inefficient. After having them marked, she took it out and placed it below her book.

_Dear Hermione,_

_Forget everything I said previously. It's for the best that you're at Hogwarts. You wouldn't be happy if you weren't. Don't deny it, you missed the library. The castle too, I guess, but the library is the focus here. It's good, I guess. You're happy at Hogwarts, I'm happy at training, even if we miss each other._

_I regret saying that training's challenging. It's gotten worse. Not in general, but that course in specific. The hours are now longer, too. We get to Grimmauld Place just in time for dinner, many times. But the courses are important, so I'm doing my best to do well (yes, I know), while balancing helping George at the shop._

_When's the Hogsmeade trip? I need to tell George I won't be going to the shop that Saturday. I don't know at what hour I'll get to Hogsmeade, but I promise I'll be there as soon as I can._

_I found what's on the package while on Diagon Alley. It seemed like something you would like. You can open it now (or later, as you wish). It reminded me of you, though most things do that these days. Happy birthday, Hermione. _

_I really hope you're happy at Hogwarts. Write to me about it, please. I miss you a lot, probably more than I should in front of the other trainees. They enjoy taking the mickey out of me, but I don't care about it this time. I swear things aren't the same without you here. The songs you showed me on the Muggle wireless are stuck in my mind. As much as I appreciate Harry's presence, I wish it were you eating deli with me on the weekend. Those sorts of ordinary things._

_It's alright, I guess, because we'll see each other soon, no?_

_I wish you were by my side,  
Ron_

_PS. That owl of yours is relentless. I was trying to tie the letter to its leg when she started pecking me. Merlin._

Hermione closed the curtains around her bed. She opened the box. It was a small, delicate necklace with a blue stone. On it was engraved a Rune she knew very well: knowledge. She wondered if he knew what it meant.

She owled him her reply after a few days, to see if it made matters more efficient.

It didn't.

She looked to the post every day, hoping to see Austen or Pig. After a week, she didn't. She simply waited for one of the owls to land beside her. When it came to Ron, neither did. She stopped waiting.

Her hope transformed into other feelings.

_Is he that busy? Has something bad happened that I'm not aware of? Has he grown tired of me?_

This was all while Ginny received letters from Harry. She received a letter once a week, maybe twice, and they were longer than a parchment and a half. Ron could learn a thing or two from Harry.

It was clear that Harry was in love with Ginny. Hermione could see it in his eyes as back as sixth year. She was happy for both of her friends, but she didn't know how to separate her happiness from her jealousy.

She'd never seen those stares from him, towards her. Although, that's not what everyone said. Maybe she'd been oblivious. Maybe it had been while she wasn't looking.

Was he getting tired of her? Maybe that's why he hadn't written. That, or he's very busy. When he's not, he's too tired to formulate a letter.

It went on and on. Her emotions against her reason. Her sensibility against her sense. Her reason and sense always won, but the other competitors were slowly gaining up on them. In the end, it all concluded to one thing.

Frustration.

She heard Ginny sigh. They were on the library, doing an essay for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ginny had repeated the action a few times before. She glanced up and saw her friend levitating her quill.

"Ginny, you have to focus."

"I can't," she said.

"Of course you can. Just stop levitating your quill and read your book." Ginny didn't follow her advice. "That essay's for tomorrow."

"I know, I know. It's just-" She sighed. "I'm worried about Harry."

"Why?" asked Hermione, setting down her quill.

"He just seems off, but I don't know if it's just me reading it that way," she explained. "Has Ron told you anything?"

"No, Ron hasn't told me anything about Harry. I haven't even heard of him," sighed Hermione.

"But what of those letters?" asked Ginny. "You get letters from Austen once in a while."

"Yes, but I think you're thinking on my mum's, not Ron's," she answered.

"When's the last time you got a letter from him?" her friend asked.

"A few weeks ago," she muttered.

"Oh, Ron," groaned Ginny. "Don't worry about him. He's a git."

Hermione reserved her comment. "We should focus on our work. Oh, right, your problem. Sorry."

"Don't be," shrugged Ginny.

"What do you mean he sounds off?" asked Hermione.

"He doesn't sound with the same liveliness his other letters have. It's more..." She thought, playing with her quill, "Muted, if it's even there."

"Maybe he's brooding about something," wondered Hermione. "He gets those moods once in a while."

"About what?" asked Ginny, slightly panicking.

"I don't know. But let him tell you. He'll tell you, don't worry," she assured her friend, who nodded.

"Anything else?" Ginny shook her head. "Well, you should worry about your essay right now."

"Thanks," said Ginny. "And don't worry much about Ron either. He'll come around eventually. He always does."

Hermione smiled sadly, as they both resumed their assignments.

_Let's just hope it's soon._

Hermione noticed how Ginny didn't open her letters in front of her anymore, except a few from her mum or other brothers. She figured the unopened ones were from Harry. She silently thanked her friend, but acted as if she'd noticed nothing.

She kept herself submerged under schoolwork and her Head Girls duties, trying to avoid her thoughts from running wilder.

"Tell me, Justin," she started, one night on her patrol. She'd become friends with him, between their duties and being the odd ones out in their Arithmancy class. They never talked much about their private lives, but Hermione couldn't handle it much longer. "Do men have an aversion to writing letters?"

"Depends," he shrugged. "It's not my cup of tea, but I know for a fact that Ernie can write a parchment on how his day went." He smiled. "Not to mention another one on how his job is doing and another on how he had to buy another bookshelf. So it depends."

"Huh. It seems Ron and Harry are in that spectrum, too," she muttered.

"Harry's Ernie, isn't he?" asked Justin. She nodded. "I think that's where the similarities end."

They laughed, agreeing.

"If you're worried about Ron not writing, he will," he continued.

"Are you sure? I thought so too, but I'm starting to think otherwise," she admitted.

"I'm sure. He'd be mad not to. I'm not saying when," he pointed out," just that he will."

"Thanks."

They walked around. Hermione thought on what Justin had told her. She smiled at one thing only.

"A parchment on how he had to buy another bookshelf?" she asked.

Justin laughed. "A little less, actually. I have proof if you don't believe me."

It was a nostalgic patrol that night. They talked of their friends and how much they missed them. Justin had a little experience thanks to Hannah, but, unfortunately, had no advice for Hermione.

As if to prove Hermione wrong, Pig landed beside her a few days later at breakfast.

His letter was simple and concise. Everything was well at the shop. He was doing loads better at the training. He told her the hour he could get to Hogsmeade, in case he couldn't write another letter. He assured her on her "home sickness" at Hogwarts and told her he missed her.

Hermione sighed. She liked receiving his letter, but she wondered if her opinion on whether she should reply would change in a few days. At the moment, she was intent on a no.


	8. Hardly Honest in a Hopeless Hogsmeade

Ginny turned around for the millionth time. She saw how Hermione's bed was empty. That was weird, she thought she'd seen her there before.

She grabbed her wand and followed the stairs towards the common room. She found her sitting in one of the couches in the corner, a book in hand. She looked up and smiled as Ginny sat beside her.

"What are you doing down here at this hour?" asked Ginny.

"I could ask you the same thing," commented Hermione, closing her book.

"I couldn't sleep," sighed Ginny. She rested her head against the wall.

"Me neither. I tried to see if I could after I read this, but I can't even focus on the book," said Hermione.

"Thinking about tomorrow, right?" Hermione nodded.

"We're still meeting together? Is it all settled?" she asked.

"You heard nothing from Ron?" Truthfully, Ginny wasn't that surprised. Her brother was a git.

"No. I reckon your reply was faster than him picking up his quill," she muttered.

"Are you going to talk to him about that?" asked Ginny.

"I don't know. That's what I'm thinking about," replied Hermione. "I think I will, if it comes up."

"You should, Hermione. It's not fair for you," she said. She was disappointed at Ron. He'd been following Hermione around for quite some time, and now that he had her, he was messing it up.

"But what if he's actually busy?"

"So much that he can't write?"

"Ginny," she warned. "I don't want to think about the other options, if he's not busy."

She thought about it. It meant lost of interest, amongst other things, and she understood. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"Sorry."

Hermione shrugged. "What about you? How does Harry sound in his letters?"

"I think he sounds better. That, or he's faking it," considered Ginny.

Hermione shook her head and murmured, "I don't know."

"I'm going to hint it to him, though," she said.

"Be careful."

"What you mean?"

"I know you, Ginny. Don't barge into the Three Broomsticks and ask him why he sounded off, with the letter in hand," smiled Hermione.

"Have faith in me. I said hint, didn't I?" she chuckled.

"I know what you did. That's the scneario for you 'hinting it'."

"Ron's been a bad influence on you," she smiled. "Where's the Head Girl I know?"

"She's too tired at the moment."

They sat there. Hermione looked at the clock's slow-moving hands. Ginny observed the dying fire, a color similar to her hair. Both indicated the late hour. Both girl's minds wandered on similar thoughts.

"You know," said Hermione. "I used to laugh at those girls that mostly thought about their boyfriends or that bloke they liked. They seemed shallow, pathetic, and stupid," said Hermione, "but I see that differently now."

"Have you talked to Jessica and Mary? Like, a proper conversation that's not about school?" asked Ginny. Her friend shook her head. "They can be shallow and stupid, but I see your point."

They went to sleep shortly after. It was enough talk for their thoughts to stop whirring inside their minds and permit them to sleep.

* * *

"Macintosh!"

Ron and Harry sat outside of the two practical examinations rooms. It was just them and Elle Rivers outside, the latter of whom reading a book.

"These are the kind of moments I envy Susan and Terry," muttered Harry. "Bones and Boot."

"At least you're not me," shrugged Ron. "Another of the perks of being a Weasley."

"What time is it?" he asked, forgetting he had his own watch.

"Ten," he said. Harry groaned.

Harry asked the time every five minutes. Ron couldn't keep his foot still. It was their form of expressing their eagerness to get their test done to leave for Hogsmeade.

Harry was called. Neville was done with his test.

"I'll wait for you on the other side," he said, standing up.

Ron nodded. He always did. The only thing that changed about today was the place where they'd eat after.

* * *

Ginny looked at herself in the mirror.

"Do you think this is alright?" asked Ginny. Hermione scanned her appearance.

"Yes. Either way, I don't think Harry will focus on your shoes, after being apart for so long," she shrugged.

"That doesn't mean he'll see me in sweatpants," she also shrugged.

Hermione smiled, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was forgetting something. She looked at her watch. They had overslept and were now late. She informed her friend of the fact.

"We're not late, Hermione. You're also not forgetting anything," sighed Ginny, having heard her for the fifth time. "Let's go then, fine."

They both looked around the Three Broomsticks, ignoring the crowd of Hogwarts students staring at them. They saw Harry and Ron in a booth in the far corner of the pub. Hermione smiled.

Aware of the audience, they both controlled themselves to a proper kiss. Their friends, however, weren't as thoughtful.

"Hi," said Hermione. "You're here."

"I'm here," he smiled.

"I missed you."

"I missed you, too. Wait a moment, though. Oi, remember she's my sister," he snapped at Harry, breaking him and Ginny apart, although he was smiling at them.

"You know, Harry," said Hermione, as she hugged him, "Hogwarts is dull without you."

"I bet you still like it, though. I'm not off distracting you and then copying off your work," he smiled.

"You never copied off me." Harry laughed. Hermione corrected herself, "Well, at least not compared with Ron over here."

Ron laughed. "No, you helped."

"I practically did all your work!"

"Well, you offered!"

Like that, they fell into their trademark banter.

The four friends fed on food and laughter, unlike any of the recent ones they had had.

They talked on many things during their stay at the Three Broomsticks: of how lucky Ron and Harry were of being exempted of the seventh years' workload, of how the Quidditch season started in two weeks, of how Ron had trouble with their Healing course, of how Harry couldn't stay true to the tactics and protocols the Aurors used, plus all of the offsprings of these topics.

They eventually decided to split up, for one couple wanted to go to Honeydukes and the other didn't. That's how Ron and Hermione found themselves sitting on the hill overlooking the Shrieking Shack.

"It's weird, you know," muttered Ron. "That after all of this, the Shack looks the same from the outside."

"I bet it's like Hogwarts," shrugged Hermione. She shivered and looked inside her bag. She internally cursed herself. "I forgot my jumper. I knew I was forgetting something, but Ginny said it was nothing."

"Don't worry, have mine," he said. He took it off before she could say anything, revealing a grey polo shirt.

"But you'll be cold, then," she protested. She didn't take the jumper from his hands.

"I don't mind. Take it," he insisted.

When Ron read about such gesture in Twelve Safe Ways to Charm Witches, he thought it seemed like such a silly thing to do. He now understood.

She sighed and took the jumper. She was surprised by his gesture. The jumper was a few sizer larger than it should. They smiled.

He wanted to kiss her, and not in the same proper way he'd greeted her. He thought on how she should wear green more often, when he remembered he could snog her.

And he did.

It was their first since the last day of August. It was nearing the end of October. Almost two months, with no contact with each other except less than eight letters.

Hermione forgot all of her worries as she found herself between Ron's arms. She felt him pull him closer, and she agreed. They stayed there for what seemed seconds, but were several minutes.

Ron heard a few squeals and looked up, unable to believe Hermione had made such a sound. She hadn't, though. She kissed him.

"I won't go nearer to the Shrieking Shack!"

"So you believe it's haunted?"

"Merlin's pants. Is that Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger snogging?"

"Ugh, shut up," groaned Hermone. They ignored the giggles, which weren't so distant.

"Goes that even classify as snogging?"

"Shh, what if they can hear us?"

They smiled against each other's lips.

"Third years," muttered Ron.

"So foolish," agreed Hermione.

"Let's get away from the Shrieking Shack, please."

The giggles moved away at the same time as Hermione. She snuggled agaisnt him. They both looked down to the Shack, wondering what to say.

"What were you saying about Hogwarts?" asked Ron.

"What about it?"

"Something about it being like the Shrieking Shack..."

"Oh." She thought on how to say it in the best way possible. "Hogwarts looks the same from the outside, and so does the Shrieking Shack. But Hogwarts has its battle scars. I reckon the Shack does, too."

"Battle scars?"

"Things that aren't the same anymore, or places you can't see without remembering certain parts of the Battle." He waited for her to say more. "Like, the Great Hall or Myrtle."

"Why didn't you ever tell me about this?" he asked, concerned.

"I tried to deal with it by myself at first," she shrugged. She worried about what she was going to say next, but decided to do it anyway. "And when I decided I wanted to talk about it with someone who wasn't in Hogwarts, I decided to wait until today because I knew you weren't going to reply in time."

"I would've replied," he said. Hermione kept silent. "I would've!"

She sighed. She was already regretting bringing up the subject. "Forget it. It just sucks."

"What sucks?"

"Forget it, Ron."

"You can tell me."

_No, I can't._

"They both suck, alright? Do you know how much it sucks to hear how you are from Ginny, who knows because of Harry? You're the one who's supposed to tell me those kinds of things."

"Look," sighed Ron, "I promise I'll write more, alright?"

She narrowed her eyes. "You said that last time."

"Well, now I mean it," he said, starting to get annoyed.

"So you didn't mean it last time? Thanks, Ronald, for making me hopeful for letters that never came," she scoffed. She crossed her arms.

"Look, I didn't mean it like that." She stood up and paced beside him. He sighed again, looking for the correct words. "Don't do this, Hermione."

"I'm not doing anything."

He stood up, to match her, but didn't face her. He faced the Shrieking Shack instead. Annoyed wasn't even the appropriate word for what he was feeling anymore. "Yes, you're doing whatever this is. Don't. I love you, alright? Don't do all this."

He internally swore. He hadn't planned to say those words today. At least, not like that. They deserved to be said in a better place and time, much better than now.

He heard Hermione stop pacing behind him. There was no turning back, now that he'd said those words.

He turned around. Hermione was looking at him. She was surprised, but he could see something else in her eyes. Sadness.

"I'm not so sure about that, due to recent events," she shook her head.

He sighed, cursed himself. Neither the time, place, or response were appropriate.

"Fine, I'm sorry. I'll write more. I mean it. I meant it before, but I've been busy with training and the shop," he explained.

"And that's more important than us?" she whispered, so low he could barely hear her. There was no mistaking the hurt in her breaking voice.

"No, that's not what I meant. What I meant by that was that I'll try harder." He ran his hands through his hair. "Blimey, you said that as if I didn't care about you. I'm here now, aren't I?"

"I don't know. Ron," she sighed. "It just doesn't take that much time to write a letter."

He also sighed, frustrated. "I love you."_ As if it made a difference._ "Isn't that enough? Why are you making such a fuss about this?"

"Because, Ron," she said, "I miss you. And the fact that I used to do most of the things with you, only makes me miss you more. And it sucks that when I do get a letter from you, it barely tells me anything on how you are."

"Oh, as if you told me so much about yourself in your letters," he attacked, tired of being in the defensive lines.

"I do," she protested. Her eyes were slowly becoming more sparkling with each words. _Fuck._

"When I ask you, you do," he said, despite the observance.

"Because I don't have anything interesting to say! Do you want to know about my Arithmancy class? My Head Girls duties? I'm sure you'd find those a thrill," she added.

"Well, all that's going on in m life are my training, which I shouldn't talk on letters much, and the shop, of which you never approved much of," he retorted.

"But you have the whole world in front of you!" she exclaimed. "I'm stuck in a castle."

"You-"

"I chose this, I know. But I thought you'd be by my side. Not literally, but at least in the distance," she admitted.

"I am," he reassured her.

She looked away. He knew she wasn't too convinced. He sighed. He had to do something. He stepped towards her and kissed her.

Everything seemed alright, but Hermione pushed him away.

She looked at him, up and down. He waited for her to say something. She didn't.

Hermione walked away. Her tears said anything that needed to be said.

Ron sat down. This wasn't how he'd expected to day to go. He observed the darkening Shrieking Shack. He didn't want to think anymore, not for the rest of the day.

Hermione had calmed down once she'd reached Hogsmeade. She dried her tears, hoping no one would notice her red, puffy eyes.

"Hermione!"

She swore under her breath, even if she knew it was Ginny's voice.

"Are you heading up for the castle already?" she asked. It seemed she and Harry had just exited Honeydukes. "Wait up, I'll go with you."

"No, it's okay." She looked to her watch. "You've got about more than half an hour. You can stay here longer."

Ginny looked at her friend's appearance. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, don't let me spoil your fun. Just remember to be back on the castle on time," she warned her. Ginny nodded.

Hermione continued walking towards the castle, leaving the couple alone.

"Do you think they fought or something? I think so," asked Hary, also concerned for their friend.

"I think so. If not, why wasn't he with her?" she wondered.

"Either way," he sighed, "sometimes I want to kill Ron."

"My sentiments exactly."

The next time she was Hermione was a few hours later in the dorm. She'd returned from the Prefects' bathroom. She'd decided that if she wasn't there when she arrived, she would check the Map.

She peeked through the closed curtains from Hermione's bed. She was there, in her pyjamas.

"Hey, you weren't at dinner."

"I was taking a bath."

"I'm pretty sure the baths were empty when I got there."

"I was probably in the kitchens by then. I felt like eating alone."

"What happened?" sighed Ginny, unable to avoid the question any longer. "You want to talk about it?"

And so, with a _Muffliato_, Hermione retold the conversation she'd been repeating in her head for a few hours. She left out a few details, like his declaration, but the substance was the same.

"I messed up, didn't I?" she asked, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.

"You both did, in my opinion," she admitted. "Neither of you handled the situation well."

"I acted like Lavender," she groaned. Ginny chuckled, only to receive a glare from Hermione.

"Sorry. Kind of, yes. But he's not guilt free." She hesitated for a moment, "Look, I'm not saying this because he's my brother, but he's an arse."

It was now Hermione's turn to chuckle, though it was short-lived.

"Do you think it'll get better?"

"You're Ron and Hermione. How many rows have you two had?" she asked. They smiled sadly. "Just wait until you both cool down and make it right. In the mean time, do you want me to send him a Howler?"

Hermione laughed. "No, it's okay."

"I'm serious," she said. "He won't know if you say yes."

"Don't send him a Howler. You're right, we can get through this," she sighed. /Hopefully./

"If you say so," she shrugged. "Also, I just decided I'm sleeping over here, if you don't mind."

Hermione smiled. "I didn't want to ask. Thanks."

Ginny returned, her pyjamas on, a few moments later. "Sent the Howler."

"Ginny."

"Joking."

"Hey, I just remembered something," she said, hoping to change the subject.

"Yeah?'

"You and Harry. Did he say anything about that letter?" she asked.

"Oh, that," Ginny chuckled. "You know Harold?"

"Your- Our classmate?" asked Hermione.

"That one. Well, I might have mentioned him a bit too much in the previous letter. Harry got a bit concerned." Ginny bit her lip. "So, yeah, that happened."

"Well, I understand why he was concerned, but Harold?" Really?" smiled Hermione.

"Well, Harry doesn't know who he is," explained Ginny, also smiling.

"I know, which only makes it more funny," laughed Hermione. "I can't believe he was worried about you and Harold together."

"I know. It took all of my self-control not to laugh in front of him when he told me," said Ginny.

"You have self-control?"

"You bitch." Hermione smile faltered a little, just enough for Ginny to notice. "Not in the Lavender way. I was joking. In no way, are you-"

"Ginny, it's alright, don't worry about it."

They remained like that, talking and gossiping until late in the night when Ginny fell asleep. Hermione did so too, eventually, with the hopes that everything would fix itself.

* * *

_A/N: Heyo. I hoped to update this a little sooner than now, but things have been a bit hectic. I've officially graduated from high school! Woot woot._

_So yeah. Um. Thanks for reading and the feedback. I hope you liked this chapter. Or not. You know?_

_-A_


	9. Quivering Quidditch

The wind was roaring. The drizzle was relentless. This was getting tedious.

The students of Hogwarts stood still in the stands, the Quidditch game above them: Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor. Both teams were strong where the other was weak, to everyone's dismay. The game had gone on for two hours already, and it didn't seem to be close to finishing.

"And Michaels blocks Matta! He seemed to have lost sight of the Snitch! Yes, he lost sight of the Snitch, folks."

The crowd groaned. The Gryffindor team called a time out.

"Honestly, I understand Ravenclaw wants to win, but we're freezing our arses up here- Sorry, Professor." Dean Thomas's voice rung out around the pitch. "Weasley called a time out. It's cold. We're hungry. Let's hope one of the teams catches the Snitch after this break."

"If Dean complains about the cold one more time, I'm going to send a Bludger his way," muttered Jimmy Peakes. Ginny glared. "Joking."

"I would," muttered Coote, the other beater. Ginny glared again. "What? He's freezing his arse? We're freezing our whole body!"

"Trust me, I know how much Dean whines. Just... Don't." The rest of their teammates landed beside them. "Alright, this is simple. Jimmy, focus on the chasers. Coote, on Michaels when he sees the Snitch, but don't hit him. Matheson, I know you're tired but don't doze off. Morgan, keep your eyes on the bloody Snitch."

"I can't if Michaels keeps bumping into me!" he complained.

Ginny sighed. Morgan Matta was the most decent seeker she was able to find. He wasn't good enough, but at least he did his job better than everyone else who tried out. She'd play the position herself, but the scouts needed to see her as a Chaser, not a Seeker. She sighed. "I don't care. Avoid him, for Merlin's sake. Just catch the sodding Snitch." A whistle indicated their time was over. "Demelza and Gill, on Wood twice followed by a Eagle. Alright?"

They nodded and flew out to their positions.

Below in the stands, Hermione stood beside Luna, watching the players fly. They were relatively more comfortable than many of the students. Hermione had charmed a few of her blue flames in a butterbeer bottle, while Luna had an Impervious around them. Nevertheless, they were both getting tired of the game.

"I hope Matta catches the Snitch soon," mused Luna.

"I thought you were rooting for Ravenclaw," smiled Hermione. "What made you change your mind?"

"Ginny and Demelza are too good together for our Keeper. Michaels can't catch it because it'd be useless. If Matta doesn't catch it soon, we're going to be here for a long time," she shrugged. "Ravenclaw isn't going to win, either way."

"Michaels should just catch the Snitch and get it over with," sighed Hermione.

"Oh, no, there wouldn't be any fun with that." Luna shook her head gently.

Hermione rolled her eyes. It wasn't just about being entretained while rooting for her friends. If she'd known it would've been this cold, she would've cheered from a distance, from the library to be precise. Actually, she would've just brought another jumper.

They watched their Houses' teams fly. The Seekers were opposite from each other, moving along with the other. Ginny threw the Quaffle to Demelza. The Ravenclaw keeper was fooled by their play.

"Gryffindor scores. Again," added Dean Thomas. "370-210."

"Hello," said a familiar voice.

Hermione jumped. She almost dropped the bottle as grabbed her wand. "Bloody hell!"

Two guys laughed behind her. Another voice she knew very well spoke next, "Bloody hell?"

"Hello, Harry, Ron," mused Luna, nodding at both of them. Hermione looked up, seeing that in fact it was Harry and Ron.

"Oh, hi guys," greeted Hermione.

"Bloody hell?" repeated Ron, the amusement clear in his face.

"Well, you two scared me," she defended, not looking into his eye. "I thought you two weren't coming."

Harry shrugged, and answered when he realized Ron was now also avoiding Hermione's sight. "It depended on how long the match lasted. We Apparated to the Shrieking Shack, you could hear the game from there."

"How's the game?" asked Ron, mostly to Luna.

"Gryffindor is winning. Ginny is playing very well," she added to Harry, who smiled.

"And the Seekers? Why haven't they caught the Snitch?"

Luna explained the game to the newest arrivals, relieving Hermione of the boredom and awkwardness that doing it herself would've brought. The game continued in the same fashion as before their arrival, with Gryffindor scoring tirelessly and Ravenclaw distracting the Gryffindor's Seeker.

"The idiot!" bellowed Harry many minutes later, referring to Morgan Matta. "The Snitch is just some feet away from her!"

It seemed as if he'd heard Harry, although they were both in the opposite sides of the Quidditch pitch. Michaels was too far away. Matta avoided a Bludger his way, his hand high.

"Finally! Matta catches the Snitch! Gryffindor wins over Ravenclaw! 520-280, Gryffindor!" announced Dean Thomas. "I'd say it was a pleasure commentating this match, but-" He was cut off from the sound, as the Gryffindors cheered.

"I'm going to congratulate Ginny," announced Harry. "Any of you coming?"

"I'll just wait for the crowds to go down-"

"I think I'll wait for you, mate."

"Alright." Harry made no gesture, but it was what he'd been hoping for. As selfish as he felt, these two needed to talk about their issues, and he didn't feel like playing referee for the millionth time in their friendship.

Indeed, Hermione and Ron stood there, avoiding each others' gazes. The crowd around them had either gone down to the pitch or left hurriedly towards the castle's warmth. They were the only ones in the stands, Hermione noticed.

"We should leave the stands, you know? We'll wait for them away from the wind," mumbled Hermione, quickly looking at Ron. He nodded.

"Look, Hermione, stop." She was in an intermediate platform when Ron finally spoke to her. She stopped and turned. He was in the top of the flight, as if he'd stopped before talking to her. "Look, I was a bit harsh a few weeks ago at Hogsmeade. You were right, you always are right-"

"I'm not-"

"Hermione, please, let me finish," he said, holding up his hand. She nodded. "You were right, and I know see your point. I'm sorry for making you feel that way, specially with all of the other things that've been going through your head. I'm sorry that I barely wrote. I'll write more, I promise. I wanted to apologize... so, sorry."

He looked down. She looked up. They looked at each others' eyes.

Hermione crossed her arms, hugging herself. All of her insides her pleaded for her to accept his apology. She looked away. There was, however, this small voice in her head that advised her against it.

_How many times has Ron Weasley hurt you? How many times have you accepted his apologies? How many times are you going to do this to yourself?_

She battled it out inside of her. Her voice was right, but she knew it very well. It was the same voice that she'd listened to for so long. It was the same voice she'd ignored in the Battle, before kissing Ron. Perhaps she should ignore it once more. It was what avoided them from being together, which was what she wanted. Why would she listen to it now?

She sighed, and looked at Ron. He was waiting for her.

After so many years of quarreling and then apologizing, she knew she liked more what came after the latter.

"Fine," she muttered, a small smile in her lips. "Apology accepted."

"Thank, Merlin," he sighed, "you had me worried for a moment there."

_Me too._

"I guess I owe you an apology, too. I was inconsiderate about it all. Alright, you barely wrote, but you were very busy. I shouldn't have had acted that way," she admitted.

He shook his head. "Don't worry about it."

"No, I will worry about it until you accept my apology!" she scoffed.

"It's unnecessary, but if it makes you feel better, apology accepted," he shrugged. She smiled as he went down the stairs and held her hand. "Now, let's look for- Right, must be snogging my sister."

Hermione laughed, rolled her eyes. "Will it make you feel better if you're snogging me?"

He smirked, "Considerably, yes."

"Then forget about them for a while," she whispered, standing in her tiptoes.

"Gladly."

When they would both look back into this moment, they would think of it as the first time they fought. They would remember the feelings of anger, betrayal, and hurt. They would remember the sense of ease after they'd both apologized. As if they could talk about everything in the world, and nothing would go wrong.

"You were nothing like Lavender, Hermione. You've got to understand that," urged Ron, many moments later. They sat down on the stairs, huddled up against each other for warmth and comfort. "Well, I mean, you're both girls. That's where the similarities end."

"No, no, you're trying to make me feel better about myself. Admit it, I acted a little like her back in Hogsmeade," said Hermione. She looked at him, "Don't roll your eyes!"

"You're too stubborn for your own good," he sighed.

"Well, you're the one who said I'm always right," she smiled. He sighed again, pretending to be mad, "That's it, roll your eyes again."

"Are you having fun?" he asked. Hermione tried to glare. "You're having fun."

She sighed, rested her head on his shoulder. "Sort of. The aspect isn't too attractive to me."

He nudged her, forcing her to look into his eyes. "That's why I chose her, you see? Because you're nothing alike."

"Chose?" repeated Hermione.

"Yeah, not my best plan," he shrugged. "I was a bit daft back in sixth year, so I tried to move on or make you jealous with her. Well, that and she was willing, too."

"Really?"

"You didn't know?"

"No," she admitted.

"Impossible. Girls always know. And you're Hermione Granger," he added. "How could you not know?"

"I don't know," she shrugged. "I suspected it for about a second once, but the theory was refuted when I saw you both together again."

Ron nodded. "I guess that should've sucked in your place. Not that I was happy there, but no less than you, I reckon. Sorry about all that, too."

"It's in the past, Ron," she said, with a wave of her hand. "It's not as if I was innocent."

"Come again?"

"Cormac MacLaggen?" she asked. Ron raised his eyebrows. "No! Don't tell me you didn't notice!"

"You asked him to Slughorn's party to make me jealous?" he asked, caught up on the subject.

"Mostly, yes. Who in their right mind would ask MacLaggen?" she asked, smiling. He laughed at the last comment. "You really thought...?"

"He's a better bloke than me, attitude issues aside," he shrugged. "I couldn't believe it, but, you know..."

"Ronald Weasley, you are ten times the man that Cormac MacLaggen is. Get that in your head, alright?" she said, an edge in her voice. It sounded almost like a warning, he both realized. It was, in a way, because Hermione couldn't understand how a wonderful person like Ron was so insecure.

She gave a his hand a gentle squeeze. He smiled and brought of hers to his lips.

"Merlin, we were both daft back then, weren't we?" he laughed.

"I'm afraid so," she chuckled.

"You don't know how many times I tried to get over you, because I was sure you had no feelings for me," he said. She smiled, knowing exactly what he meant.

"Me too. It never worked."

"Nope."

But in their overall relationship, it wasn't the first quarrel they'd had, nor the last. They both knew all of this, but they couldn't help but admit that it was different this time.

He sighed, and beckoned her. "Come here."

She complied, smiling as he wrapped his arms around her. A kiss was planted on her forehead. She could smell his aroma, the one she'd always quite liked. She felt the rise and fall of his chest. It became rather sharp, and she looked up to find Ron Weasley chuckling.

"What?"

"Bloody hell," was all he said before he started laughing.

"What about it?"

But all she got in response was his continuous laugh. It was hard not to laugh with him when he got in such states, but she found it wasn't funny when she didn't know what had been going through his head.

"It's just," he gasped for air, still laughing. "I can't believe you said 'bloody hell' today, Hermione."

"I was scared! Are you laughing because I swore?"

He nodded, "I've never hear the prim and proper Hermione Granger swear before."

"I swear," she defended. He simply laughed. "I do! I just don't say it as often or as loud as you do." He smirked, more mocking than authentic. "And I'm not entirely prim and proper."

"No?" He raised his eyebrows.

"No." She smiled.

"I was hoping for that."

They stayed in the area, thankful that no one had walked in and interrupted them. They spent their time talking, teasing, and kissing, as any other couple their age would spend their time.

"I should go up in the castle," she sighed, when it was getting dark out. Not that it was late, she thought. The nights were longer once November started.

"Why?" A look from Hermione was all he needed. "Alright, stupid question. But I'm sure you can stay a little longer."

"People must have noticed that I'm not around," she said.

"They must know you're not a party girl," he countered, even if he knew he was right. She knew that he knew, too. He just wanted to be with her a little longer. She understood.

"I guess ten more minutes wouldn't hurt," she shrugged, smiling.

Ten more minutes would be added after those ended, and another more when the additional ones did, too.

"I really need to go now," she sighed again. "I don't want to leave."

"I would say 'don't', but it really wouldn't help our problem," acknowledged Ron.

"Problem?"

"This long distance thing, relax," he smiled.

She was wondering on whether he would actually write as he said he would when they stopped as near as they could from the Whomping Willow.

"I'll write, you know," he reminded her. "I'll somehow find the time, because I will."

"I'll talk more about the issues in my mind," she smiled. "We'll manage.'

There are many types of smiles in this world. The one Hermione gave him was genuine. It was the type you do when you decide to completely trust that person. Not that Ron was particularly skilled at reading different types of smiles, but he knew enough to know it was a good one.

* * *

_A/N: I want to thank my mother and brother, for leaving me in the house without any form of transportation. (Not that I can drive well. Ugh, I hate driving.) If it weren't for them, you would've had this chapter after I'd gone to see Gatsby and gone to El Meson to write. I guess I'll go tomorrow._

_I'm glad Ron and Hermione made up. Are you glad? I'm glad. _

_Thanks for all the reviews and support. -A_


	10. Insignificantly Important Improvements

Ron kept his promise. Maybe he didn't write as much as they both wished he could, but he letters were simple, nothing out of the ordinary. They consisted of parchment and ink. The ink spelled out letters, which formed words, sentences, paragraphs; so they consisted messages sent out between the two of them.

Ron tried his hardest, staying awake later than he wanted to so he could write her letters. Maybe it was because of his need for sleep that he sometimes forgot to write things, only to add them the next day. If it were too out of context, we would vanish it all and start again. If not, he would just leave it as it was.

The letters weren't a replacement of her presence. This was the only way he was be able to talk to Hermione, unfortunately. He'd see her in a month, which was slowly nearing. When they saw each other, they'd could talk. All that was left unsaid in their letters, they would be able to talk to them.

Letters may be romantical and all that, he thought, but they didn't have the same feel of talking. They were more painful and slow. He wrote at least a letter per week, sometimes forcing himself to scribble down his words.

After all, there were things that were better said than written.

Hermione was grateful when she saw a pattern in Ron's letters. She didn't wait for a tardy reply for a letter she barely remembered what was written on it. She received her replies and answered them as soon as her mountain of schoolwork permitted her to do so.

She always awaited until the darkest hour to write her reply. She found she could focus better when she was fighting against sleep, unlike him. It felt like she was talking to him, like in the late nights they had when they were both in Hogwarts. These memories made her a bit sadder, which translated sometimes into her writing.

Maybe it was the Mount Everest of assignments for their N.E.W.T.s and the relative lack of waiting for Ron's letters, but time passed quickly for her. His letters, incredibly, usually arrived on the few days she had less assignments. It was some kind of luck, like Felix Felicis, that she could send her reply the next morning.

In those moments, right after reading his letters, she always felt three main emotions. Happiness, because he'd written; sadness, because they were apart; guilt, for having forgotten about him for a few days because of her workload.

She'd worry about it, for some moments. How could she forget about him? Did he forget about her sometimes? Does it mean something? But it all went away when the rational side of her regained control of her, reminding her that she'd been busy with her studies. No matter how important Ron was to her, studies were always first. That was all.

And he was important, very.

Their communication improved. It could easily be thought that it was thanks to Ron writing more often, but that isn't necessarily so. Yes, he wrote more often with things with more substance. But Hermione also wrote about the things that bothered her and what went through her mind.

None of them had done this before their argument. Arguments can do that to people. They can learn what they did wrong, and how to improve their situation.

Ron acknowledged that he preferred seeing Hermione in person than writing her a letter. Who wouldn't? But he also acknowledged that he couldn't see her every day wanted to now, so writing was the only form of communication. And she was right, he realized. Some communication is better than none.

He also had to admit that it was one of the things that had prevented him from writing in the recent past. He'd been afraid that if he wrote to her more often, his feelings towards her, specifically the ones that missed her, would strengthen.

He was right about that. But he was wrong in the sense that those feelings were bad. He preferred it to the unhappiness he felt before Hogsmeade.

Hermione had to admit that she hadn't been telling him much about her life either. She started with the somewhat small things, like what they actually did in Arithmancy and and about his Head Girl duties. Then she started writing about how being back at Hogwarts wasn't exactly beneficial for trying to move on from everything that had happened in the last year.

She'd talked about this things to Ginny before, but never to Ron. It felt good saying them to him. It was what she was supposed to do as his girlfriend, she supposed. She should be able to say what she thought and felt without worrying what he would write next.

It felt weird and vulnerable at first, having to reveal all of that, but she saw that Ron was actually being supportive. She didn't say she was being foolish or ridiculous, but he understood and even added his own comments. Things had definitely improved between them.

They were also more affectionate towards each other, as much as you could be while writing a letter, without it being cliche and cheesy. Many barriers remained between them, but one had been broken in the two days they'd seen each other.

_With love,_

That was how Ron ended his letters.

When he first wrote it, almost at two in the morning, he laughed. How many times had he thought that he'd never write a love letter? Not that this was a love letter. It was just a letter that happened to have the word 'love' in it. No, it was impossible.

He could think of anything else to replace those two words. He told himself he was too tired, and that he would fix it on the next day. That next day, however, with a clearer mind, he realized that nothing else said what he wanted to say with those words. They were the words he had looked for. So he kept it as it was..

Hermione had been drinking tea when she received the letter. She had dark circles around her eyes, evidence of a rough set of nights. The tea hadn't woken her up, neither had her breakfast. But when she read those words, she felt perfectly awake for the rest of the day. And no matter how foolish she felt, she couldn't wipe her smile from her face, not even when she received an Acceptable in Potions.

When it came her turn to watch her letter the next day, after some good hours of sleep on a Friday night, she saw that she could also move on from her departing words and phrases. Ron already had the with love, which said exactly what she wanted to say. But she wasn't as blunt as he, but more formal, so she decided on another.

_Affectionately,_

That was how Hermione ended her letters.

She could've ended it with "Lovingly," like she first intended to. But she didn't, because it would be to say that she loved Ron. And those words weren't meant to be written. They were meant to be said.

He'd already said them, so it was no problem. But, no, hers could wait a little longer.

"Hermione?" asked Ginny, beside her one late night.

It was nearing the end of November and the summit of the workload for their term. Hermione held up her hand, and looked up when she'd finished her last translation for Ancient Runes.

"In a scale of first year to your third year, how busy are you right now?" she asked.

Hermione thought about it. "Around the beginning of the sixth year, but I just finished for tonight. Why?"

Ginny looked around. The last group of seventh years were heading up towards the stairs. She waited until they reached it. "Can I ask you something that's been bothering me for some days?"

"I can't guarantee I'll answer, but sure," she said, placing her things inside her bag.

"Has Ron ever said he loves you?"

Hermione blushed at the bluntness of the question, so alike someone else's. "Well, loads of times. But since we've been together? Once."

"Really?" scoffed Ginny. Hermione nodded. "Wow, Ron has grown a pair."

"Ginny."

"Right." She shifted in her seat, like she always did when she was trying to focus. "It's just that Harry hasn't said it, but has hinted it. So that's that."

"Well, it's Harry, you know? He'll say it when he's sure of it. And don't think he doesn't, alright?" warned Hermione. "I grew up with him and... well, the difference is clear."

"I wasn't going to say that," she defended. "I mean, it's Harry. How many people have... you know, told him that?"

"I know," agreed Hermione.

"When did Ron tell you?" she smiled. Hermione sighed.

"Are you sure? This is your brother we're talking about."

"I'm asking you, no?"

Hermione sighed. "When we fought at Hogsmeade. I questioned it and slightly changed the subject."

"You didn't."

"I did."

"Hermione Granger," she moaned, covering her face with her hands.

"We were fighting and he just says it in the middle of his argument. What was I supposed to do?" she defended

She sighed. "Fine, I'll drop it. But what about after the Quidditch game?" she asked.

"Nothing. But I'm going to tell him next Hogsmeade, that I love him, that is," she admitted.

"Good, I guess."

At that time, the Hogsmeade trip was three weeks. Harry and Ron arrived when to Grimmauld Place, when it was in two weeks. It was dark and they were tired from their training.

"Thank Merlin I don't have to help George today. I'm knackered," sighed Ron as he sat down on the dining table.

Harry, however, walked up to the upper landing.

"Where's the Murtlap?" he bellowed from the upper landing.

"Second shelf on the bathroom," he replied. "Why you need that anyway?"

"I didn't fix my ankle as well as I let on," he shrugged, as he appeared the in the dining room.

"Maybe if you hadn't fallen from the tree..."

"Says who we had to Renerverate twice."

"I'll get better," shrugged Ron.

Later in the night, before they set off to study, Ron went down the stairs. He found Harry writing in the sitting room.

"I'm going out for a walk. Are you writing to Ginny?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?" he asked, without looking up.

"Are you going to tell her?"

"Of course," he said

"Do you think you can tell her not to tell Hermione?" he asked. "I want to tell her myself."

He stared at him. "Alright."

"Thanks."

He stepped out from the house, wrapping his coat around him. He headed out of to a Muggle coffee shop a few blocks away, which always brought him comfort and a clearer mind.

A clear mind was what Hermione needed these days. Her thoughts were always in her schoolwork and duties, no matter how much she wished to do otherwise. She thought of Ron too, of course, but those were often at early mornings or late nights.

They were often spent wondering what he was doing or how his day had went. They were also about his letters, trying to decipher his words with a drowsy mind.

It was a week before the Hogsmeade trip when she got another letter from Ron. She didn't like this one, however. She sighed. Damned auror training.

"You knew, didn't you?" asked Hermione, as she reread the letter that night.

Ginny looked up from her Muggle Studies essay. "Knew what?"

"That Ron and Harry can't come to Hogsmeade," she said.

"Oh," said Ginny as she set down her quill. "Yes, Harry told me in his last letter."

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked.

"Ron wanted to tell you," she said.

"This sucks," she groaned. Ginny agreed. "I wonder why their hours are longer now."

"I don't know, maybe their training is supposed to be like that," shrugged Ginny.

"This means the next time we'll see them is on the Christmas holidays," said Hermione.

"I know, right?" sighed Ginny. "I'm trying to look at the bright side. It'll make our return more special? That's all I've come up with."

"Yeah," agreed Hermione. "I guess we can also use that Saturday to study."

"No."

"Why not?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because, no."

"We have-"

"We deserve a day off, for Merlin's beard."

"But-"

"No."

"Fine."

"I have defeated the mighty Hermione Granger!" exclaimed Ginny, throwing her hands in the air.

"Shut up. Don't you have an essay to finish?" she reminded her. Ginny waved it off. "Ginny, I think it's the first time I've finished my work before you. Focus."

"Fine," she sighed. "You said cars run on plutonioum?"

"Petroleum."

"That's what I said."

Hermione smiled, shook her head.

They sat on a couch, late on the next Friday night. Their sleep schedule had been so messed up that they couldn't fall asleep if they'd tried. There was a wireless behind Ginny, who raised the volume on the music.

"You know, I'm glad I convinced you to do your Christmas shopping tomorrow," smiled Ginny

"Forced me, more like it," said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

"Details. But you're welcome. You can study any time, unlike go to Hogsmeade. Well, at least not by the rules." She listened to the song from the wireless. "I think that's the Kappas... No, I don't know. What do you think?"

"I don't even know who those are," admitted Hermione.

"No! You don't know who the Kappas are? Merlin, Hermione!" exclaimed Ginny. "They're the best all-female band at the moment. Just listen to them."

She listened to the rest of the song. "Eh, I prefer Muggle bands. They can actually play their own instruments, you know."

"Well, that's not as fun as enchanting them, isn't it?" smiled Ginny. Hermione rolled her eyes.

The same song played on the wireless the next noon, when they were having lunch, or a very late breakfast at the Three Broomsticks.

"I miss Ron. I miss both of them, actually," sighed Hermione.

"I have to admit I miss my dear brother, too," nodded Ginny. "But mostly Harry, of course."

"Of course."

"To not having Harry and Ron's presence, which sucks," said Ginny, holding up slightly her butterbeer bottle.

"To horrible training schedules," agreed Hermione.

"Cheers."

* * *

_A/N: Sorry, I guess. I'm a little proud of the beginning. I wrote it like at one in the morning, without a filter between my mind and my typing fingers. _

_Also, I'm thinking of editing down the first four chapters of this story into one. They're awfully slow and barely have any importance at all except a few scenes. (But that won't delay the updating.) If you remember anything from those chapters, what do you think? I'd like some constructive criticism on those chaps._

_Hope you guys/gals liked this chapter, despite the circumstances. -A_


	11. Easy Entanglement

The Hogwarts Express was to set off towards London on a Sunday. This wouldn't have made much of a difference if it weren't the only day Ron and Harry weren't in training.

The train was scheduled to arrive at King's Cross at early evening. Not that Ron and Harry would admit it to each other, but they were already ready to leave by the afternoon. They spent the time in their respective rooms, trying to spend as much time without looking at the clock constantly.

When the clock hit five, they found each other on the sitting room.

"Are we going to leave?" asked Ron.

"It's just five now, we can keep waiting here," shrugged Harry.

"What if the train comes early?" asked Ron.

He thought about it. "Alright. You said you can apparate directly into the platform?"

Ron nodded.

Ron paced around the platform, checking his watch constantly. He noticed the crowd slowly thickening, along with the heads that looked away from him. He sighed, and leaned against a wall.

His foot shook from his impatience. Despite the circumstances, he preferred it to waiting in Grimmauld Place.

Hermione couldn't help but smile as the landscape became more urban. She was getting closer to him. Almost two months had passed since they'd seen each other.

She thought that maybe it would be more bearable if it was summer. She was used to being apart from him for some time, but not when she was in Hogwarts. They were almost always together at Hogwarts, but now they weren't anymore. No matter how well she and Ginny got along, she wasn't Ron nor Harry.

No matter how long their letters were or how frequent they were, they did nothing to help her missing him. They talked, yes, but it didn't compare with his presence. Being with him... Yes, that was what she liked the most.

She startled as she noticed that the train had started to slow down. She looked at the others in her compartment, who'd also noticed.

"We're getting there," she informed, if there was ever any doubt.

"Finally," sighed Ginny. "Not that I didn't enjoy being with you guys."

"You just want to see Harry," said Luna. "We know. I figure Hermione feels the same way about seeing Ron."

"I do," she blushed.

She put on her coat on. Her outsides were becoming familiar. Her smile was becoming wider.

The train halted to a stop.

They were here.

They exchanged their Christmas wishes with Luna, who walked the other way for her bags.

"We'll see each other on Christmas Eve, right?" asked Ginny, as she took down her bag. They both knew how their boyfriends had different things planned for them today, and how Hermione would only join the rest of the Weasleys on Christmas Eve.

"Yes, of course we will," she said, taking down hers. "I'll see you soon."

"Bye, Hermione."

And with a friendly, quick embrace they set down the still steaming steps down the train. They smiled at each other before looking out into the crowd.

With his height and hair, it was easy for Hermione to find Ron. She saw him before he did, and walked through the fussing parents towards him.

"Hi!" she said, once she was near him.

"Hi," he said.

She place her bag beside her. She was met with a kiss.

They'd been almost two months apart.

"Hello," she breathed, removing her arms around his neck.

"Hello," he smiled.

"People are staring," she laughed, glancing at the parents beside them.

"I don't know why, though. Harry's not here," he shrugged.

"Thinking of Harry after kissing your girlfriend? You worry me sometimes, Ronald," she mocked, taking her bag from the floor.

"Did you just mock me?" he smiled, cocking his head to the side.

"I can make jokes," she shrugged, also unable to keep her smile.

"You've spent too much time around Ginny I'm afraid," he said, as they walked away from the crowd. "Next thing I'll know, you'll be playing Quidditch on your free time. Not that I mind."

"Not going to happen, sorry. What are we doing today, if I can know?" she asked.

"First, we need to take care of that," he said, pointing to her bag. "Let's make a stop at Grimmauld Place."

They held hands and apparated at the steps. He opened the door, only to see a different interior to the house she'd known.

The walls were now a bright red. The troll leg coat hanger was gone. The furniture looked clean. The wood looked polished. The house elves' heads were removed from the walls. The dark and murky Grimmauld Place had been replaced by a lighter interior.

"What you think?" he asked, after getting tired of Hermione's shock.

"How did you guys do this?"

"We got tired of the inhospitable interior," he shrugged. "And if Harry says so, Kreacher can find a way to do it. What do you think?"

"It looks great! But more importantly," she turned around to face him. "Did you just use the word inhospitable correctly?"

He looked confused, as he thought about the words he'd used. "Yeah, I did."

She kissed him. He stumbled a little on her bag behind him, but regained composure as he pulled her closer.

He could feel her hand by his nape, playing with his hair. He loved that.

He loved her.

Merlin, had he missed her.

Whether the moment was short-lived or not, they later found each other in a restaurant in central London. It was simply decorated, one of those that bragged about good food and service rather than being elegant and expensive. They stared each other after the waiter had left.

"Do you believe the world's going to end as we know it?" he asked.

"What?" she sputtered, surprised by his topic of choice.

"I heard some talks about the Muggles thinking that the world's going to change when the next millennium starts. I don't understand the lot of it all, but I get what they're thinking about, if that's not strange. What do you think?" he asked, picking on his fork and knife.

"I can't know what I think if I don't know all the information," she shrugged. "What do you know about it?"

"All I know is that they believe some stuff will happen after the clock strikes midnight on New Year's Eve, next year," he answered. "I don't understand well on what it is, but it's supposed to change things. Whether it's good or bad, I don't know. The end of the world as we know it, they say."

"I don't believe it. The world can't just _end_, you know? It'll just change. That doesn't mean the world we know will end." She looked at him, playing with his glass of water. "What do you think?"

"I think it's going to happen," he replied, looking up.

"You do?"

"Yeah. I mean, it's not the actual end of the world, just the one we know about and come to like. Like you said, everything will just drastically change. Things change every day, every month, every year. Of course the world we know is going to end. It fades away every day, when things change. We just don't notice," he shrugged.

She thought about it. Why hadn't she thought about it like that? "You're right. Have you given this much thought? It doesn't do much good to dwell on the future and how things will change."

"No, I just remembered it when I was looking for something to talk about. But you're right, let's talk about something that's not as morbid. Gnocchi?" he smiled. His mind seemed to be everywhere tonight, Hermione realized.

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Sounds Italian."

"Because it is. What about you?" she asked, smiling. "You got the burger."

"Of course. I like burgers," he shrugged.

"Out of all the things here, you chose the burger?" she asked, skeptical.

"Well, it has bacon, that's an important factor here, it's mainly meat and bread together. What else could you want in a meal?" he argued, although he was smiling.

Their food arrived, despite the rush of people. They ate in silence, famished from the day's journey and excitement. It wasn't until Hermione finished that she actually observed Ron eating the remains of his burger.

"You never fail to amaze me, Ronald," she sighed in mock sadness.

"That's my objective," he smiled, finishing the meal.

"Objective?" she asked. "Where have you learned these words?"

"A dictionary." She raised his eyebrows. He rolled his eyes. "I know what objective means, Hermione. But before that, I learnt it in a dictionary. See? I'm not trying to be cheeky here."

"I'm just messing with you, Ron," she said.

"I never know if you're serious or not," he said. She raised his eyebrows. "I'm serious right now."

"I'm just happy right now. Can't I express my happiness in this way?" she asked.

"You can be happy. I just don't know if I like it when you mess around with me," he shrugged. "That's my thing."

"You don't know if you like it?" she repeated.

"Yeah." There was something going wrong here.

"You don't have to like it," she said.

"Don't tell me you're mad at this," he sighed.

"I'm not mad."

Ron, having known her for eight years, easily saw past her facade. "You're mad." Hermione glared.

"Maybe a little," she admitted.

Ron sighed. Why did he sometimes say things without thinking them through? "Look, I didn't mean it in that way."

"But it was what you wanted to say?"

"No, you know I sometimes say everything that goes through my head. Well, more than sometimes," he added.

"I know that very well."

"So, you know..."

"What?"

"Forget it," he sighed. "Let's forget about this. Let's go to the 's this movie about this Muggle writer that I think you'd like."

Hermione walked engulfed in her own thoughts.

What did Ron mean that he didn't know whether he liked it when she joked? Did he mean he preferred the boring, bookworm Hermione instead? Impossible. Ron wasn't a guy that cared about the theories of random variables. He was the kind that preferred to laugh about a joke than hear an anecdote.

She'd tried to be more calm and mocking around him. He'd liked it before, what does he mean that now he's not sure? Maybe she'd overdone it?

This was going to rack her brains for the rest of the night.

Ron walked beside her, also silent thanks to his thoughts.

Had he been too harsh with his words again? What was it that she'd once said in fifth year? That he had an emotional range of a teaspoon, or something like that. He was probably acting like that once again. Too harsh and antipathetic to other's feelings, like Susan had accused him of being the other day.

Why couldn't he learn to think about the consequences every time he was going to speak? He'd say considerably less, but at least he wouldn't hurt people's feelings.

Because he'd hurt her feelings, he was sure of it.

They sat in their chairs. It was after the opening credits that they realized they were both being idiots.. They should just apologize to the other and explain, just to get it over with.

But when Hermione glanced at Ron, he was looking at the movie screen intently. He'd said once that he liked movies. He laughed at something a character had said. She shouldn't interrupt him. Plus, he'd been thoughtful enough to choose a movie about Shakespeare. She should watch the movie, too.

Ron heard Hermione chuckle at a witty remark. He looked at her from the corner of his eye. He wanted to apologize in that moment, but he couldn't. She was smiling. She liked the movie. He had to admit it was good, once he understood who was what. He'd apologize later, when the movie ended.

Even if she was mad at him, he slid his hand into hers. Maybe it was a dangerous thing to do, but he didn't care. If he was being stupid, Merlin help him. But she was beside him, well and smiling, after so long. All he wanted at the moment was to hold her hand and to believe everything would be well.

He was about to look away, and towards the cinema screen, when she glanced at him. A spot of surprise could be detected, he realized. Ron gave her a small smile, which was reciprocated.

The bright lights from the cinema's exterior shone around them, a few hours later. They looked at each other.

"Look, I'm sorry."

"Wait, why are you sorry?" asked Ron, confused.

"Because..." She shrugged.

"Well, I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have said that like that. Whatever you want to do is alright with me. I know better than to go against all that."

"That doesn't mean..." She sighed, "Look, I've got some explaining to do. I just... Heavens, this sounds stupid. But I was worried that you'd get bored of being around me."

"Hermione," he smiled, taking hold of both her hands, " if I didn't like being with you, I would have taken you to the mountain troll again on first year. I would've let Fluffy eat you when Harry wasn't looking. I would've-"

"Alright, I got the point," she smiled.

"I'm sorry, really. Don't let my moronic comments get to you," he said, taking her hand into his.

"Okay, apology accepted," she said, with a kiss. "But they're not moronic. You just have to think some stuff through first, okay?"

"Okay. Which reminds me..." he trailed off, wondering exactly how to say the words. She smiled at him, expectant. No, he couldn't tell her now. She was happy. He didn't want to ruin that.

"Reminds you of what?" she asked. She wondered whether he was going to say those words again.

"Just that I like being with you, despite the circumstances," he shrugged, holding her close.

"What circumstances?" she asked. He coudn't be talking about the war. The war was over.

"Just our banter," he said, dismissing the real answer. "But I like it."

He smiled and kissed her. He wondered how it was that after so long, even with the distance, a kiss from her was a shot of adrenaline.

"Let's go to Grimmauld Place," she muttered.

"Harry and Ginny may be there," he reminded her.

"Again with the Harry thoughts. I thought I needn't to be worried anymore," she joked.

"Oi, you're going to cross the line one of these days," he smiled.

"No, I always play inside the box. I never found the excitement in the 'outside the box' thing," she said, moving around him.

"Outside the box?" he repeated.

"It's a Muggle saying," she shrugged, embracing him.

"Oh."

"But I don't care about Harry and Ginny, they don't have to find out we're there if they're also there," she pointed out.

"You're sneaky," he smiled. Hermione nodded. "Alright, let's go."

They found a dark alley a few blocks away from the cinema. There was no one at Grimmauld Place when they arrived. Ron closed the door, for privacy's sake. With her back against the door, she kissed him.

It wasn't until he gently bit her lower lip that she realized she was now a lost cause.

Indeed she was, when she found herself in his bed later.

"Merlin, I missed you," he gasped.

"And he says now, of all moments," she smiled against his collarbone.

"Hermione, you know when I-"

"Shut up and kiss me," she said.

"Bossy," he murmured, bringing his lips to hers. "That's the Hermione I know."

She laughed, but it faded away. "I need to go."

"Five more minutes?"

"I said that twenty minutes ago. I really need to go home now," she sighed, adjusting her skirt.

"I know," he sighed. "At least we'll see each other on Christmas Eve. That's how many days?"

"Two," she smiled. "We waited almost two months, we can wait two days."

"Of course."

"It's going to be hard, isn't it?"

"Of course."

"You think you're funny," she accused, trying to keep her face straight.

"I'm hilarious," he smiled.

She sighed, sitting by the corner of the bed. "I don't want to leave."

"I don't want you to leave either," he said.

"But I have to."

"I know. It sucks," he sighed. "But, two days, Hermione. We can do this."

She took his hand into hers. She brought his rough knuckles against her soft lips. He smiled. "You said you have training tomorrow?"

"Yeah, sort of. It's more like being in the office in case something comes up," he said.

"So we can't see each other?"

"I get off at six. Maybe we could fit in something in the night?" he asked, hopeful. They'd talked about this before, but maybe things had changed. He had to try. He wanted to spend every second he could with her before she returned to Hogwarts, but he had responsibilities elsewhere. Hermione felt the same, in a very similar position.

"I can check," she smiled. "What could we do?"

"I don't know. We're in London. How about we do something at your town?"

"There's nothing much to do in my town."

"We can find something," he smiled.

She thought about it. There wasn't much to think about, really. It was more like savoring what would happen if she agreed. "When can I owl you, if I can do this tomorrow night?"

"Whenever," he shrugged. "Like I said, I'll just be at the offices in case something comes up."

"Alright, I'll owl you when I can," she smiled. "I think I can work something out."

And with a goodbye kiss, she went down the steps and, with her bad in hand, disapparated to her house.

It was only in her bed when she remembered what she was going to tell him when she was trying to apologize, but didn't have the courage to say so.

_You're a funny and active guy and you would normally be with people who are like that, but I'm not like that. So I got worried and I tried being more like you and I'm afraid. Being with you as a friend and as a girlfriend isn't the same when it comes to this._

And, despite the circumstances, she fell into a deep slumber unlike any of the ones she'd had throughout the last months.

* * *

_A/N: If you see some typos and such, my apologies. I added a few last minutes things, literally a few minutes ago, but I wanted to post this chapter tonight, since I was originally going to post this on Saturday. But my family had non-internet plans... I'll go through it tomorrow morning and check everything._

_Thanks for the feedback and support I've been getting. If you ever have a commentary or a question, feel free. -A_


	12. Small Town, Small Talk

He'd agreed to apparate to her house at seven o'clock, an hour after his auror shift finished. They would have dinner with her parents and would then go around the town.

Was this how Muggles did it, then? he wondered, as he apparated by her house. Obviously without the Apparation, but it was close enough.

The dinner was pleasant. If his mum cooked casseroles like Mrs. Granger, or Jean, did, he might have grown up as a vegetable lover. The small talk was entertaining, so maybe it wasn't exactly small talk. They talked about his Auror training, Hogwarts, and the dentistry practice, which was now in the same state before they'd gone to Australia.

After dinner was eaten and the small talk had run out, Mrs. Granger started doing the dishes. He saw Hermione's father hand her some keys.

"Be home by twelve, alright?" he muttered.

She smiled. "Of course, dad, don't worry."

With a kiss in her father's cheek, she walked towards Ron. She motioned him to follow her out of the house.

"Got your coat?" she smiled. He nodded. "Let's go. We're driving to town."

"Driving?" he asked.

"We'll go with the car," she explained. "And I'll drive, not you."

"You know how to drive?" he asked, following her to the green car. He looked at the insides, through one of the six windows. He'd been inside cars before, the Ford Anglia and the Ministry cars, but this one was legitimately Muggle.

"I learned in the summer of my sixth year, in case of an emergency. Plus, it's a good skill for Muggleborns to know. Ron, go the other way," she said, as she opened one of the doors with her keys.

"What?"

"If you want to sit beside me, you have to open that other door," she smiled.

"Oh, sure, of course," he said, going to the door she'd signaled. He sat on the passenger seat, looking at her expression. "Are you having fun with this?"

"On seeing you lost on what to do with the car?"

"Yeah."

"A little," she smiled. She turned on the car. "I gather it's the same amusement you have when you have to show me something that comes naturally to wizards. Seat belt."

"What?"

"Put on the seat belt," she chuckled. She showed him how to do it. He followed her lead as she turned on the car.

"Driving is natural to Muggles?" he asked. He startled when the car started to move forward. "Merlin, you can actually drive."

She laughed. "It's sort of like flying. You have to learn, but there's nothing out of the normal with doing so."

"I see," he nodded.

She pressed one of the buttons in the middle of the car. A song played in the ratio or whatever it was called. He'd heard the song before, he realized, as the chorus reached its end. The same day they'd gone to Diagon Alley, if he remembered correctly. They'd walked a bit around Muggle London and she'd pulled him into a store with those small plastic discs that stored music.

"_The city's aflood and our love turns to rust_," she sang. "_We're beaten and blown by the wind, trampled_... What?"

"Nothing," he smiled. "Keep singing."

He hoped the night with her would stay as it was. In feeling, at least. He didn't know if he fancied staying the car for too long.

He saw another small car headed towards them. "We're not going to crash with that car, aren't we?"

"No, Ron," she sighed, still amused. "I know this road and, either way, we're not going to crash. Do you trust me on that?"

"I trust you," he agreed. She smiled.

She loved being in the Muggle world with him. Sure, the most important part in that sentence was the 'with him', but she loved it either way. It was showing him a little more of her life. He knew loads about her, but not as much when it came to the things she did every day around here.

And he liked it. He didn't need to say it. It was clear in his expressions, which she appreciated.

She parked the car in front of a chemist that stayed open at all hours. Also a family business, as Hermione knew.

"What you want to do?" she asked, exiting the car.

"I dunno, it's your town," he shrugged. "What do you recommend?"

She sighed. "I also don't know. Number one, I spend most of my time reading. Number two, there's a reason why I spend my time reading."

"What would muggles our age normally do?"

"Get drunk, from what I've heard. But I have no idea what the sane ones do, to be honest."

"Well," he thought, considering their options. He didn't feel like going to a pub was the right thing to do and, by the sound of her voice, neither did she. "Why don't we walk around and see what we can do?"

The town wasn't as small as he'd been lead to believe, he realized as they walked by the few streets. It was certainly larger than Ottery St. Catchpole. She pointed to some places as they walked, some opened and some closed, and Ron had no trouble imagining her in places like these. A music store, a cinema, her parents' dentistry, a market.

"That's the only bookshop here. The owner's very nice. He always lets me sit in a corner and read," she sighed, staring at the sign that said 'open.'

"Want to go inside?" he asked. She raised her eyebrow. "Alright, stupid question. I have no problem going in if you want to."

"No?"

"No."

"You do realize you'll have a hard time pulling me out of here?"

"I'll do my best."

She smiled as he opened the door for her. The bell rang.

There was a spectacled, middleaged man sitting behind a counter. He smiled at the sight of Hermione.

"Good evening, Hermione. I see you're back from that school," he smiled.

"Yes, I returned yesterday. I'm just showing Ron around, but I'll be back another day," she said. "Is it alright if we look around quickly, Ted? I know you must be closing soon."

"It can wait a chapter or two," he shrugged. Ron noticed how his eyes scanned him quickly, but wasn't perturbed for some reason.

"Thank you," she smiled.

She walked around the store, looking through the bookshelves. She sometimes picked up a book or two and read their book jackets, but resumed shortly. Ron never left her side, and neither did his eyes.

They reached the back of the bookshop, where its shelves were placed to the sides. He looked around. The bookshelves were a feet or so taller than him. There were three propped against the walls, and another one almost as wide as the store. He smiled as a realization hit him.

"Is this where you sit down and read?" he asked.

"Yes, how'd you know?" she asked, smiling.

"You'd mostly be surrounded by books there, from what I see," he replied.

"Ah, you know me too well," she sighed.

She slid her arm around his waist. He gave her a kiss in the forehead. She was on her tiptoes, when she stopped herself.

"No, we can't. If Ted comes around, I won't be able to face him if he sees us like that," she explained. "But..."

"But?"

"Let's keep on walking around?" she asked, her eyebrow arched..

"I thought I'd have a harder time getting you out of here," he smiled.

"You're in luck, Ronald," she said.

They continued walking along the road, only to stop a few meters away. "You see that building? That's where I would've gone to school if it weren't for Hogwarts. And that one across the road was my primary school."

He smiled at the sight of a playground beside a small building. An idea come to mind, and he just smiled wider.

"Can any child play there?" he said, pointing at the playground.

"Yes, you can just open the gate and go in," she shrugged.

"I'll tell you what. What if we go and buy some crisps and that cola drink and we go play there?" he suggested.

"It's for kids."

"So? Come on, Hermione."

Hermione smiled, despite herself. "Let's go."

They walked back to the market, whose customers were doing last minute shopping for Christmas dinners. She lead him to a small junk food aisle, to the crisps.

"Why are there so many?" he asked.

"Just grab the original taste," she said. She smirked as she grabbed the bag. "Do you remember that time I told you about the girl I did accidental magic on?"

"The one with the sandbox?" he chuckled.

"Don't laugh it's not funny," she whispered. "That's her over there. The tall one."

He looked over at the girl she was referring to. She was the tallest one of a group of three girls, who were all drinking in front of a hot chocolate machine.

"Don't laugh, Ron!" she whispered once again, moving away from them.

"You think they would recognize you?" he asked between chuckles. He followed her to the end of the aisle. He grabbed the drink and went for the queue.

"Why did you grab Coca Cola? Pepsi's better," she said, indicating her bottle.

"Because whenever I have a Muggle drink it's this one?" he shrugged. "What's the difference? They look the same."

"This one tastes better," she repeated.

"But it looks the same."

"But it tastes better."

"Whatever, I'm sticking with this Coca Cola or whatever it's called. I'd rather not change drinks right now," he said, as he reached for his Muggle money in his wallet.

She sighed. "Good point."

They walked out of the store. They were grateful for their coats, with a warming charm, when it appeared to have dropped a few degrees while they were inside.

"So what's difference between these two drinks?" he asked. She opened her mouth to reply, but he cut her off. "Other than yours tastes better."

"That's basically it. I guess it has to do something with the ingredients, but Pepsi's better."

"Huh."

"I'll race you to the swing. I doubt you run faster than me," she smiled, as she opened the playground's gate with her hidden wand.

"You're talking to an auror trainee here, Hermione. I think I'm faster than you," he smiled.

"Really?"

"Really. I'll give you a head start, if you want."

"Cheeky. You think you're better than me," she said, crossing her arms.

"I bet I am. When it comes to running, at least," he added.

"You actually want to bet on that?" she said, walking closer to him.

"Sure, what are we betting?" he asked. He took her hands into his.

"How about a kiss?" She smiled, closing the space between them slowly.

"I like the sound of that. Sure," he said, looking at her lips. But if they were betting a kiss, he thought, shouldn't it be after the race? Not that he minded.

"Okay."

With that last word, she ran out of his reach and towards the swing. Ron swore and ran. She was fast, he had to admit it, but he was gaining up to her.

"I win!" she exclaimed, just when he caught up with her. He smiled as she laughed at him.

"You're sneaky, you know that?" he smiled.

"You owe me a kiss, you know that?" she teased him.

"Why don't we save it for later?" He laughed at her expression. Her eyebrows had raised and he knew she was getting tired of the game. "Alright, alright. If I have to."

He kissed her, doing it properly for the first time in the day.

Ron knew it wasn't even a whole day since he'd last seen her, but he'd missed her. He had missed her so much while she was at Hogwarts that, now that she was by his side, he didn't want to let her go.

And Hermione felt the same way. She smiled as she pulled him in closer. She could say it was to keep themselves warm in the cold, but she just wanted him as close as possible. She smiled.

"That was a good one. I think you now owe me one, too," he smiled.

"Eh," she shrugged. "Well, if it appeases you."

She stood on her toes and paid her debts. Ron smiled.

"Come on, I'll push you on the swing."

"I can push myself," she smiled. "You can sit on the one beside me if you want."

"Even better, no offense."

"Non taken."

They played in their swings in silence. It wasn't an awkward one, but a comfortable silence. They smiled.

They later found themselves in their respective sides of the seesaw, going up and down. They're funny things, realized Hermione. Most of the things in the playground were. They went up and down again and again. They barely had consistency, something that Hermione liked and Ron disliked.

"Let me try your Pepsi," he said.

"Why?"

"I want to see what the big deal is about." Hermione rolled her eyes and gave him her bottle. He made a face. "It's bitter."

"It's not bitter," she defended, taking back her bottle. "Yours is just too sweet."

"I like it that way," he shrugged.

"For some reason, I'm not so surprised about that," she smiled.

"Is that supposed to mean something?" asked Ron. She smiled, and shook her head. "I think it does. I think you're implying something."

"You're such a boy sometimes, Ron, that's all," she said, shaking her head.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, you like sweets. You show affection like little boys do, pulling hair and making jokes. You sometimes can't take things seriously," she shrugged, as if it were obvious.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Huh."

He waited until he was down by the ground. Instead of pushing himself up, he stayed still. She was six feet above the ground with no way out.

"Ron, put me down."

"Not until you apologize," he smiled.

"Don't tell me you're mad about that," she sighed. "Please, I don't like being so up in the air."

"I will if you don't apologize," he said. He raised himself a little, so she wouldn't be as high from the ground.

"Ron," she warned, even if she was no more than four feet above the ground.

"I said I would let you go down if you apologized."

"You're mad?"

"You did call me childish. I'll let you know, I take pride in my manhood," he said. She raised her eyebrows. "I'm joking. I'm not that kind of guy."

She sighed. "Either way, I'm sorry. Really, now can you let me go down? I don't like getting stuck up here."

"Why not?" he asked, letting her go down.

"There's no consistency. You don't have control on what's going to happen," she shrugged.

"You can have control," he said.

She raised her eyebrows. "Careful."

"What-"

His incomplete question was answered when she stood up from her side of the seesaw, leaving Ron to deal with the force of gravity. His body plummeted down to the earth.

"That was cruel, Hermione," he groaned. "Cruel."

"Sorry. Like I said, I'm not fond of seesaws, specially staying up there," she said. She sat down in front of him. "I'm serious here. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, as long as it's reciprocated," he murmured, pulling her close.

"It is," she said, receiving a kiss on her forehead. She hugged him, considerably for warmth.

"You want to go somewhere warm?" he said, reading her thoughts.

By her suggestion, they walked back to the car. Just like she'd said, the only places opened at the hour were the chemist and the pub.

"He kept going on about how the product wasn't on the list..."

Hermione was talking about something, but Ron couldn't focus. He was only hearing bits of her conversation, and he could hear himself saying general things. He didn't even know what she was talking about in the walk.

"I've never seen a first year so..."

He wanted to pay attention, really, but his thoughts were keeping his attention away from her conversation. He hadn't told her yesterday. Could he tell her now? How did anyone change the topic of the conversation to something like that?

He wanted to tell her. He did, but he didn't know how to tell her. The truth shouldn't be so hard to say out loud. Not that he was being dishonest. He was just... withholding information.

"Ron, are you listening to me?" she asked, once in the car.

"Yeah, you were talking about that first year with the bouncy balls," he muttered.

"No, I was talking about a third year," she sighed. "You weren't listening to me."

"I was... sort of. I'm just distracted," he said. He looked at her and realized what he'd said. "Not because I don't care, I like listening to what you have to say. I just have some stuff on my thoughts that are bothering me right now."

"Oh," she said. "You want to talk about it? I can try to help."

He sighed, looking away. She was mad at him because he wasn't listening. He couldn't tell her now. Yes, she'd asked him, but she wouldn't be any more happy if he told her now. "No, it's okay."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"You're not using that as an excuse, right? Because you weren't listening to me?" she asked, suspicious.

"No, Hermione, I'm not. I'll tell you later, promise," he said. She nodded.

They sat there in silence, so unlike the one they'd had back at the playground. He busied himself by drinking the remains of his soft drink.

"Is it about Fred?" she asked.

He sighed. "No, Hermione. It's not about Fred, but thanks for bringing him up."

"I'm just trying to help, Ronald," she complained, crossing her arms.

"Well, I'll talk to you about it another time. I just don't want to talk about it now. Leave it," he snapped.

Hermione looked away, trying to ignore the sudden knot in her throat. She sighed. "I'm driving home. Where are you apparating from?"

He looked at her. "I'll apparate there. I'll know you got home safe and it's safer."

Hermione nodded and turned on the car.

She'd been talking throughout the walk to the car about things that mattered to her, and he hadn't even been listening. She should've known by the way he was agreeing to everything she said, but she had hoped he was being sincere about it.

Maybe he was being sincere? He couldn't have been. He hadn't even been listening to her properly.

She was getting tired of this. She had opened up to him, even if it had been scary when she was at Hogwarts and he was in London. Her head had told her not to do it so fast, but her heart had told her it wasn't at all. They'd known each other for eight years. To open up now was delayed.

She hadn't closed up on him after that decision. She didn't have the heart to do it.

And recently, whenever it was about Ron, she couldn't help making her decisions based on her feelings.

But he wasn't opening up to her. She had hoped that once the physical distance between them disappeared, that distance would close significantly. Eight years, and most of the time she had no idea on what went on inside his mind.

Needless to say, she was disappointed and heartfelt.

Ron kept silent as she drove beside him. He was still deep in thought, but not with the same ones as before. He was rethinking their conversation, and found that he had talked a little harshly to her. No, he wasn't a little harsh. He had to admit he had been flatout harsh.

He remembered one time he had overheard his dad and one of his brothers talking about some girl. He had been young and he didn't remember to whom the advice was meant for, but he still remembered his father's words.

"Don't go to bed mad at each other," he had said. Only to add hastingly, "Not necessarily the same bed, but you get the point, I hope. Try to settle your dispute before going your own way."

And, in that moment, he couldn't ignore those words.

He looked at her, with her eyes focused on the road. She didn't deserve this. She deserved better.

If there was a time to be honest and accept guilt, it was now.

"Look, Hermione," he said. He took her small glance towards him as a sign that he could continue. "I'm really sorry. You were trying to help and, I don't know, I lashed at you. I just don't like to talk about my thoughts and feelings when I don't feel like it, you know? I'm sorry."

She sighed, nodded. "I just want to help you. You looked like whatever you were thinking about was eating you from the inside. I don't like seeing you like that, you know? But I guess I'm also sorry. But just know that if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here, alright?"

"I know, Hermione. You're always there for me," he noted. And he appreciated, too, even if it didn't always look like that. He told her this last thought.

"Oh."

"Just because I'm not saying it all the time doesn't mean it's not true," he shrugged. Hermione nodded, unknowing on what to say to something like that.

"I understand. It's okay," she finally said, partly lying. Even if she had truly forgiven him, her worries were still there.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, let's not worry about this right now," she said. She looked at Ron, who nodded.

She sighed once again as she pulled into the makeshift driveway. It was twenty minutes to midnight. The light by the front door was the only one on.

She turned off the engine and looked at Ron.

"Are we okay?" she said, as if she had moved on from the incident.

"I think so, yeah." He nodded, in case there was any doubt.

"Good," said Hermione. She smiled at him, but he knew too well than to believe it was genuine. He said nothing, however.

He walked her off to the front door. They both knew the other wasn't happy with what happened in the car, but didn't say anything about it.

He kissed her goodnight, to show her he wasn't mad at him. She gave him no indication of his hopes.

"Goodnight, Ron," she said, a small smile on her lips.

"Goodnight."

They both went their different ways, to their different beds to think about their night. No matter what they'd said, they both knew they were not alright.

If he said he was alright, she should believe him. Then why was he being so cautious? If it weren't alright, he should tell her.

If she had accepted his apology, she must have meant it. She wasn't acting as if he was forgiven, but she didn't seem mad at him. She seemed sad.

None of them knew how to make it better, and they had plans to see each other on the next day. So, they both decided to do what had always worked for them in the past:

Pretend the problem didn't exist until it disappeared.

* * *

_A/N: Oh, sweet, sweet internet. How much I've missed you._

_The song in the car is Where The Streets Have No Name by U2. _

_Advice: Never believe your family when they say "oh, horse racing will be fun!" Nope, you have to wait too much for races that last a minute and a half, too many smokers and people drinking. Unless you know you like those sorts of__ things, of course. _

_Thanks for the support and feedback, as always. -A_


	13. Two Eves in an Evening

She sighed, her hand on the doorknob. They'd both apologized last night. There should be nothing wrong between them, because there was nothing to be worried about.

After thinking all night, she'd concluded that. She'd act as if nothing had happened, because there was nothing wrong from her point of view. Well, there probably was, but she wouldn't let him see that.

She opened the front door, leaving all the problems outside Grimmauld Place.

"Ron?" asked Hermione, closing the door behind her.

"I'm in the sitting room," she heard him say.

She walked up to the room, where he was abandoning a Daily Prophet in a table. She smiled at the difference between the room in front of her and the one in her memories. There was a small Christmas tree in the center of the room, with fake snow and everything.

"Merry Christmas," he said, after a kiss.

"Christmas Eve," she corrected.

"Same thing, only a few hours of difference," he shrugged.

"If you say so. You want to start cooking now?" she asked. He nodded. "You're hungry, aren't you?"

"I think you know the answer to that one," he smiled as he followed her out of the sitting room.

"You're always hungry."

"Full marks for Hermione Granger!" She laughed.

"I've only got one stupid question. How do wizards turn on the stove?" she said.

He looked at the stove and tried to remember how his mother did it. "I think you just..." He flicked his wand, the probable incantation in mind. A small flame appeared on the stove. "Like that?"

"Yeah."

Hermione had prepared everything so they only had to cook the food, which certainly made matters easier.

"I should let you know, I'm an excellent cooker," said Ron after placing the lid on the pot.

"Are you?"

"Well, I can chop stuff and I can reheat mum's cooking. I guess that's something, no?" he smiled. Hermione laughed.

"You sound like my dad. The best he can do is use the telephone to order takeout," she smiled at his puzzled look. "There's a pizza place nearby."

"Pizza?"

"No, come on, Ron. You've been living in a Muggle area for half a year and you don't know what pizza is?" she asked. He shook his head. "I have so much to teach you."

"Really?" He moved up up against her.

"Really," she smiled. She found herself cornered between the kitchen counters.

There was something about kissing him that made her happy. She just couldn't pinpoint whatever it was. There was the obvious answer: that she was kissing him, but there was something specific in it. Maybe it was the lack of distance between them, his hands on her hips, or the way he bit her lower lip. She wasn't sure, really.

All she knew is that she was senseless around him.

She was the same height as him once she'd lifted herself up to the counters. They smiled.

He felt similarly. He loved many things about her, and snogging her was only one of them. He couldn't put his wand on what exactly made it amazing. Was it the way her legs were around him at the moment? How he usually had to lean down to snog her? Or that one of her hands usually found its way to his neck and played with his hair?

He knew one thing, however. He was mad for her.

He kissed her by her collarbone as she heard a sizzling sound. Huh, that's a weird sound to hear while you're kissing someone.

"Oh, it's boiled over!" she exclaimed, quickly remembering where they were and what they had been doing before all that.

She ran to the stove top and removed the lid from the top. The scorch-filled bubbles stopped overflowing from the pot, ending the sizzling with its burning.

"We should focus so we don't burn anything," she said, still a little dazed.

"Uhm, yeah, of course," he agreed.

He looked at her while she was too busy checking the meal. He hoped he didn't seem wary to her. She wasn't acting any differently, so he gathered whatever had happened between them last night was over. He let out a small sigh of relief.

"What can I do?"

In around half an hour, they'd finished their meal and placed it on the small table in the kitchen.

"You're amazing," he sighed, sitting down beside her.

"I bet you say that to everyone who cooks for you," she mocked, although she couldn't stop her cheeks from reddening.

"Yes, Kreacher always blushes when I tell him that. Has to learn to take a compliment, really."

"It's nice that you gave him these Christmas days off," she smiled. He shrugged, eating his pasta. She ate hers too, and decided they'd done a good job despite their distractions.

"The thing about him is that we practically have to force him not to cook for us. If it's a Sunday afternoon and we haven't eaten lunch yet, we'll find food outside of our doors," he said, rolling his eyes. "That's the kind of loyalty you'll have to deal with when you're making laws in the Ministry."

"Huh, really?"

"Yeah, I wish I'd be making this up."

They talked lightly about working at the Ministry. They laughed, but there was a certain sadness to it. Because Ron shouldn't have been telling her how it was to work there, even if he was still a trainee. They both knew that they should both be in the same situation, but they weren't because of the war had changed yet another thing.

"You know," he sighed, after they set their dishes to clean themselves, "I know it's not Christmas yet, but it's almost Christmas, so who cares, but... Can I give you my present today instead of owling it?"

"Well," she said. "I was planning on giving yours today, because I wanted to help you set it up and such. We can exchange today and give everyone else's tomorrow."

"Sound like a deal to me. Deal?"

"Deal," she smiled. "It's in my bag, which I think I left in the sitting room."

"Well, yours in my room. How about if we meet there?" he asked, a sly grin.

"Deal," she repeated.

After picking up her beaded bag, she went up to his room in the third landing. He was already inside, by his desk. He had her present behind his back.

"Alright, who goes first?"

"You go first."

"No, you go first!"

"Alright, I'll go first," exhaled Ron. "There's two in one. You're probably going to hate me for the first one, but the second, maybe you'll like."

He handed her what looked like many different books wrapped together. She raised her eyebrows, but he signaled her to go on. He looked away.

It was an assortment of books she could see didn't belong together. Her jaw dropped when she read the titles. They were all on Wizarding social justice, both on past laws and current problems. She looked at him, a small smile on her lips.

"I- uhm... I just wanted to give you something you could actually use, you know?" he stammered, still looking at the floor. "I found them at a section in Flourish and Blotts and I just thought you could-"

"Ron, it's okay," she laughed. He looked up and saw her smile. "I love them."

"You do?"

"Yes! I didn't even know there were books like these!" she exclaimed.

Ron had trouble staying there, by the desk, when he saw her smile. He embraced her as she thanked her.

"Now, there's some new shops in Hogsmeade because many closed during the last year," she started, once she'd found his present inside her bag. "There's an interesting one that sells Muggle stuff and trinkets for Muggleborns. I saw this, and I thought of you."

She took out a wrapped box. He sat down by the bed and unwrapped it. It was a Muggle device he'd once seen in his dad's shed, which name he didn't remember. He read the description in a paper inside it.

"This is like some sort of wireless, isn't it?" he asked.

"Yes, it's incredible. It's a wizard wireless and a Muggle radio at the same time," she explained. "I don't remember exactly how it works, but it's all inside. You can decide if you want to hear the Wizarding stations and programs or the Muggle ones. I know you'd said how you'd liked the Muggle music and well-"

"This is incredible, Hermione. Wow," he said. He took it out of the box and observed it. "Thanks."

"Thank you, too."

"Want to see how this works?"

"Sure, let's try and figure this out."

A few minutes into the set up, they were both frustrated with the trinket.`

Using it in the wireless mode brought no problem because Ron knew how to deal with them. But they didn't know how to change it to the Muggle radio mode, because it gave no indication on how to do it.

They sat against the bed, sharing a bottle of butterbeer. A Celestina Warbeck song played. Ron groaned and changed the program with a flick of his wand.

"Ugh, those are the Kappas," groaned Hermione, at his choice.

"They're alright," he shrugged.

"Not when Ginny listens to their songs frequently. You get tired of them. May I?" she asked. He nodded. She flicked his wand. A different Celestina Warbeck song could be heard.

"Good Godric, it's as if she's the only ballad singer we have," complained Ron.

"Hand me the instructions again," sighed Hermione.

She read the paper thrice before she saw from the drawings what they were doing wrong. They were trying to change it while it was turned on. Or that's what she understood from the drawings, at least.

"That doesn't make any sense," said Ron, when she told him of it.

"I'm not sure if it worked," said Hermione.

"I've never heard those blokes before, so I think it did."

"Oh, yes, I've heard them. I don't remember their name, but they're definitely Muggle," she smiled.

"Mission accomplished," said Ron, holding out his hand in a high five. Hermione smiled and slapped his hand. "What's this thing's name, anyway?"

"I have no idea. It's a wireless and a radio at the same time. That's all I know," she said.

"Wire...dio. Wiredio?" he asked. "Raless? Widio?"

She laughed. "Widio."

"Widio," he repeated.

"Sounds weird."

"It is weird, but I like it."

By Hermione's suggestion, they found a countdown of the best hits of the year. They laid on his bed, listening to the music.

She groaned, "I don't like this song. The radio played it once every few hours when I helped my parents in the dentistry."

"It's catchy," he shrugged.

"That doesn't mean it's good," defended Hermione.

"Come on, the melody is good."

"But the lyrics are so bland."

"But it sounds good."

"That doesn't change anything. But if you like it..."

"Alright," he sighed. She smiled. The pop song was now in the chorus. She sang along with it. "You don't like it but you know the words?"

"That's how much they played it," she defended.

"I think you secretly like the song," he smiled.

"I do not," she scoffed. He raised his eyebrows. She sighed. "Alright, maybe a little."

"Ha. I win."

"Don't be so smug about it."

He smiled. It was another thing he loved. Just bantering with her and teasing her. It was something easy to do when they both had different interests and liked. He hoped this was all alright for her.

He wasn't the smartest, the kindest, nor the bravest. He was just Ron, while she was the wonderful Hermione Granger. She would normally be with an intelligent guy who could understand everything she did. He tried his best when he was around her. He just hoped it was enough.

His thoughts traveled to similar places, internally worrying for a few songs. But then Hermione sang a few lyrics for another song that was playing. This moment, the two of them listening to Muggle music in his bed, was enough to make him feel calm. He was happy, she seemed to be so, too. That was enough.

Hermione caught up with what she'd missed while she was at Hogwarts, as she did all Christmas holidays she spent with her parents. Ron immersed himself with the Muggle music scene, which he had to admit was superior to the Wizarding one.

"Oh, I know this one," he said. He felt excited when he recognized the song.

"You do?" she asked.

"Yeah, I do. They played it all the time in the ratio-"

"Radio."

"That's what I said," he smiled. "They played it all the time in the radio around November or so. I always heard it when I walked around the area. I told you about that, right?"

"The coffee place that you find amusing because it sells more tea than coffee?" she smiled. He nodded.

She listened to it. It was slow and mellow; a ballad. She focused on the lyrics, however, and she found it was as heartfelt as it sounded.

It was harder to focus on them when Ron started singing. His voice wasn't good, but he wasn't focusing on being good. Something something

She couldn't hold back a smile.

Hermione knew she loved him. She'd known it for quite some time, but it was now that she realized just how much she did.

She wanted to let him know, but he was singing the song that he so clearly liked and she didn't know how say it. She tried after the song ended and they were both in silence, but she couldn't. Hermione Granger, who knew and loved words, was speechless.

She tried several times to say it out loud, but she failed. The words always turned into comments of the song, at the last minute.

Gryffindor, my arse.

"What's wrong?" asked Ron. It was then when she realized she'd sighed out loud.

"Oh, nothing. I don't want to move away from this bed right now," she said, with a smile. He wrapped his arm around her and she snuggled up against him.

"I know you don't want to move from here, neither do I, really," he said, many songs later, "but we're expected to be at dinner at the Burrow."

"When is it?"

"In four minutes."

She sighed. "Let's blow it off."

"Hermione Granger, how dare you suggest such a thing?" he asked, pretending to be scandalized.

"I want to stay here." She hid her face in his chest.

"One more song?" he asked.

"One more song."

And so, they heard one more song in the comfort of each other. It ended, eventually, as all things do. The Widio, as they called it, was turned off.

The Burrow was as full as ever. The Christmas Eve dinner had everyone in the family, including her and Harry... but not Fred. There was a significant lack of laughs thanks to the latter, but other than that, it was a normal Christmas Eve.

After talking with Harry and Ginny, they could agree on two good things in that dinner. First, and most obviously, that the next day would be Christmas, and while they would be spending the day apart with their families... it was Christmas. Secondly, it was the start of the end of a horrible year.

* * *

_A/N: I'm tired and I wanted to post this tonight and I promise I'll edit it tomorrow and sighs. Also, I kept imagining the instructions for the wireless/radio looking similar to bookshelf assembly instructions. You know, that it's all in pictures and you can't really figure it out? Sighs. I can write an actual bookshelf assembly scene in the future, now that I think of it._

_Thanks for the support and feedback! -A_


	14. Boxing Blows

Boxing Day at Grimmauld Place started in a tranquil way. Kreacher had already made them lunch, and they'd managed to convince him not to cook dinner. They would go out for a walk later in the day, they decided.

Ron and Hermione sat against each other at the sofa in the sitting room. Ron had moved the radio contraption while they were downstairs. The music could be heard as Ron read the Daily Prophet and Hermione read one of the books he'd given her.

"How much are they going to reduce his stay at Azkaban?" asked Hermione, her eyes still focused on her book.

"Doesn't say. I don't expect it'll be much, however," he shrugged. "Only gave us two new names."

"Let's hope not," she sighed. "Didn't they do that the last time with Voldemort? Let free all of those who gave enough Death Eater names?"

"Yeah, we don't need all of that happen again, don't we?"

Hermione chuckled, even if it wasn't that funny. She returned her attention to her book, which was talked about the lack of laws protecting non-human creatures. It annoyed her that it said nothing about house elves, however.

"You know about Vicky?" asked Ron,when he passed to the sports section.

"Who?"

"Viktor Krum."

"Oh," she looked up from the book. "What about him?"

"There's been talks of trying to bring him to play here for at least the next year. All speculation, though. The teams are the ones talking, not him," he shrugged.

"Huh." Her eyes returned to the book. "I don't think he'd be interested. He likes his country."

Ron nodded and continued to read the newspaper. He failed this time, for he'd remembered a question he had in the back of his mind for a long time. He blurted it out before he had a chance to think about it.

"Did he really kiss you?"

"What?" She closed her book and sat up straighter. Her eyes narrowed just enough for Ron to notice. "Why would you think that?"

"Ginny told me once when she was mad at me."

"Yes, we kissed," she said slowly, taking in Ron's expression and how it barely changed.

He tried to keep all his thoughts to himself. By the way Hermione was looking at him, he reckoned he'd managed to appear indifferent. Had they ever done anything other than that?

He grunted and returned his attention to the newspaper.

Unfortunately for him, Hermione knew him too well after so many years.

"Hey, come on, it's not like you didn't kiss anyone before me," she said. She looked at him, waiting for the words that would eventually come.

"I know. It's just... " he sighed, "Viktor Krum? Really?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "Lavender Brown? Really?"

"Alright," he sighed. "But you know about that. I don't know what you did with Krum."

"We did nothing, Ron. We kissed a few times, but nothing more. We mostly talked and wrote to each other. Non-romantically, if you're wondering," she added, when it seemed he had more to ask on the matter.

"Okay," he nodded. He left the matter alone, not wanting to argue with her today. If she said that was all they did, he should believe her, no matter what his imagination and his insecurities told him.

Hermione, however, wasn't going to let the overall matter alone. She looked at him as he tried to focus once again on the newspaper. She decided to ask, just to placate her curiosity.

"I don't know what you did either," she started.

Ron looked at her. Her book was still closed and her eyes were fixed on his. "What?"

"I don't know what you did with Lavender. Other than nauseating us with your snogging fests in the corridors," she added, cocking her head to her side. "Did you two ever do anything more?"

"Do you mean…?"

"Just in general."

Ron looked away, uncomfortable. It wasn't just that he didn't want to tell her, more that he didn't want to talk about what he did with Lavender. It was all stored in a corner of his brain that he would rather forget. "Uhm, well, a little stuff under shirts. Nothing more than that, honestly."

Hermione looked at his reddened ears and his embarrassed look. It was the evidence, not that she needed it. She smiled what she hoped was a comforting smile for Ron. "Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yes. What? Did you expect me to get mad at you?" she asked, a genuine smile finding its way. Ron nodded. "Why would I get mad? We weren't together when that happened. I'm over that, anyway."

"Yeah?"

"Yes, I am," she assured him.

He nodded once again. "That's good to know."

"Either way, I wouldn't want to argue about this," she shrugged.

Ron sighed. "Good, because me neither. Today's a nice day, isn't it?"

"It is," she smiled.

It was a few hours until they decided to end their lazy ways. Hermione asked if he was hungry, only to stop herself.

"Of course."

"I was waiting for you," he chuckled. "Hey, you remember that piece you told me about. Wait, no, it was a pizza, I think. You think there's a place for that?"

They walked hand in hand by the sidewalks, aimlessly chattering and bantering. After many minutes of walking through the cold London they found a place.

"I told you we would find one around here," smiled Ron.

"I didn't say we wouldn't," she said. "I just said it would've been odd."

"Which meant you didn't believe me when I said it could've been here," he pressed on. She sighed, shook her head.

"Git."

"Barmy."

"I'm paying for both of us, by the way," she said.

"I can pay, Hermione," sighed Ron.

"I know you can, but you've done it several times already."

"I can-"

"Ron, I'll pay. If it makes you feel better, it's not much," she said. "But I'm paying either way."

He closed his mouth when she sent a glare his way. "Fine."

* * *

"Come on, Hermione," said Ron, closing the front door behind him.

"I'm telling you," she continued, "just because someone dresses eccentrically, doesn't mean they're wizards in disguise. Some Muggles wear weird clothes."

"But green trousers with a yellow shirt?" he asked, for the hundredth time. Hermione hid her smile. "I'm bad at dressing myself, but I know better than to do that."

Hermione couldn't help but laugh as they entered the sitting room. They stopped, seeing how it was occupied with Harry and Ginny, who were talking by the sofa.

"Uhm, we'll just leave you-" started Ron.

"You can join us if you want," smiled Ginny. Harry nodded.

Hermione sat down beside Ginny on the remaining space in the sofa, while Ron dragged a chair towards them. They chattered like they used to back when they were all at Hogwarts, back in Hermione's sixth year. When she realized this, she remembered something and looked at Ginny.

"You told Ron that I kissed Viktor?" whispered Hermione.

"Who's Viktor? Krum?" she asked.

"Yes, Viktor Krum. I don't exactly go off kissing many blokes called Viktor."

"But I didn't… Oh, I think I did," she said slowly. "When he was telling me off for snogging Dean back in fifth year. Sorry."

Hermione sighed, "It's okay. It's done and dealt with."

"You sure?"

"Yes, don't worry about it."

While she spoke to Ginny, it didn't go by her that Harry and Ron were exchanging what seemed to be meaningful looks. Ginny also noticed and they stopped their conversation to look at them.

Harry noticed, and just raised his eyebrow at Ron. He sighed.

"What's going on?" asked Ginny.

"Oh, nothing," sighed Ron. "Really."

Harry looked pointedly at her, before looking at Ron and Hermione.

"Oh." Ginny turned and glared at his brother.

"What's happening?" asked Hermione. Ron avoided her gaze, only to find Harry and Ginny's. He sighed.

"Uhm, Hermione, you want to go outside?" he asked. She nodded, hoping for an explanation of what had happened. He grabbed their coats and headed to the small clearing of trees in front of the house.

They followed the path surrounded by snowy trees, neither of them saying a word. Hermione was waiting for Ron to explain what had happened inside. He knew she was waiting for it. He was looking for the correct words, silently swearing at Harry and Ginny.

He should just tell her. It couldn't be as complicated as he feared it would be.

"So," he sighed. He sat down by a bench, hoping it would help his fidgeting feet. "I think you're wondering about what all of that was about."

"I am" said Hermione. She sat down beside him.

Alright, maybe it was almost as complicated as he thought. She would overreact, he just knew it.

The only thing he couldn't do was to permit his emotions to control his actions. Every time he did it, he ended up saying or doing things that he regretted after some time. He couldn't afford to do a thing like that once again.

"Well, do you know when you want to say something to someone else, but the time is never right? Either it would make things worse, or you're so involved with other things and you forget to do so, or you just don't know how to say it when you want to say it. Do you know what I mean?" he asked. He looked at her.

She looked away. Of course she knew. It was what happened to her every time she tried to tell him she loved him. She sighed, whatever it was he wanted to talk about sounded serious. "I know what you mean."

"Well, the thing is that... I don't know how much you read the Daily Prophet and how much remember the little things the Auror department publishes about what they do, but they've only caught three Death Eaters right now. There's six more on the run, and they're only close to catching two of them right now. They're not that dangerous, considering how people like Bellatrix and Dolohov were," he added. He returned his attention to Hermione, who nodded.

"What does this have to do with...?"

"I'm getting there," he assured her. She nodded. "The thing is they don't have enough Aurors for when they go out on the field for big things. And usually, trainees start to go on the field after they pass their first year, but they can't afford to do that right now."

"Do you mean...?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "We're starting in January. The training will be the same, only that we're going with them on the field when they need more Aurors. They knew all along. They were teaching us the most important courses first, you see."

Hermione sighed. She always worried about him, about something going wrong with his training and him getting hurt. She was used to him being on the verge of danger, but she had always been by his side, not thousands of miles away.

She covered her face with her hands. She knew Ron wanted some type of reaction, but she had to think it through first.

The dangers were no longer a spell backfiring or getting hurt in a faux mission. The dangers were real. If danger came to the field, and it always did, there would be no difference between a fully trained Auror and him.

He could get hurt, he could get killed... No, she shouldn't think like that. She couldn't.

"Are you okay?" he asked cautiously, holding her hand.

"Are you?"

"Yeah."

"How are you okay? It's... It's..." she sighed, different scenarios starting in her mind. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to tell you, but the time was never right!" he explained.

"When did you know that you would be going to the field?" she asked. He looked away from her. She felt cold, and wrapped her coat thighter. "Ron."

He sighed. "They told us in mid-November."

"Mid-November?" she repeated. "Ron, you knew since then and you didn't tell me anything?"

"I wanted to tell you, but I couldn't write it," he sighed. "I wanted to tell you face-to-face."

"Not this again."

"What do you mean?"

"What's so hard about writing a letter, Ron? 'Hi, Hermione, they're training us so we can be able to go on the field this January. Other than that, everything's the same. How are things at Hogwarts?'" She looked at Ron, and sighed. "I appreciate you want to tell me face-to-face, as you say, but it sucks being out of the loop, when you don't write to me as much-"

"Oh, not this again."

"Are you mocking me?"

"No, why would I do that?"

Hermione sighed, ignoring those remarks. "I just like to hear about you and know what's going on. How often are you going to be on the field?"

"Dunno, as much as they need me to be," he shrugged. Hermione groaned. "It's not that much, really. We would be needed for parts of mission that require about a dozen people, which really isn't that often."

"Why aren't you worried about this?" she asked.

"I am, I've just accepted it. And it's better, in my opinion."

"How, in any way, can this be better? You're prepared to be out on the field by just studying for six months?" she asked.

"Hermione, relax, I know enough."

"I hope so."

"Hermione, I've done dangerous things before. I've dueled before. I've killed Horcruxes. I fought at the Battle of Hogwarts. I did all of those things and look at how well I am. I've done this things before and they've thought me well in training," he explained. "You're overreacting."

"I'm not overreacting, Ron. This is the real thing," she snapped. "Aurors die."

"It's more real than dueling Greyback with Neville at the Battle? Than being in the same room as Voldemort?" he asked.

"Okay, not really, when you put it like that. But you can't just say that it won't be dangerous because you've done these sorts of things before," she pressed on.

"I know it's dangerous, Hermione, but I chose to be an Auror. I knew that if I wanted to protect you, my family, and everyone else, it would be dangerous, so it's not a surprise for me. And, yes, maybe I didn't expect to be on the field so soon, but things don't go as planned. Which I think is what's got you so upset," he added.

"That you're going on the field or planned thing?"

"Both."

"I'm not upset because I never thought about this happening so soon," she said.

"Are you sure? Because I know you, Hermione. You hope things turn out just like you planned them to be, even if you should know that life can't be planned. Things always get in the way, they always do. And when something you didn't foresee happens, you freak out," he explained. "Are you going to tell me that's not what's happening here?"

"No."

"Then why are you upset?" he asked, but quickly interrupted her. "Don't tell me it's because it's dangerous. I know that's not the entire reason."

"I, just," she sighed. It was becoming harder to control herself. Ron had once again withheld information from her, whether it was a simple letter stating how he was or more complicated matters like the one they were discussing about. She had to control her emotions, even if they were in the same page as her head. "I just believe you didn't tell me sooner. You could've told me before."

"I couldn't-"

"Yes, you could, Ron," she interrupted. Her lips moved against her own command. "It's been more than a month since you've known. You honestly expect me to believe that you couldn't say it once?"

Ron remained silent. He had to admit it. He had screwed up, and he was afraid an apology wouldn't fix this. "You're right."

Hermione sighed. He'd admitted it. All of this was so wrong. When did things become so messed up between them? They'd had fights in the past, but, recently, it seemed that most of what they did was fight. And not banter, like they usually did, but actual fights with hurt feelings.

Recently, they would argue. They would apologize. They would be happy for a day. They would repeat it all again. It wasn't exactly a cycle. The distance between them prohibited for it to be a cycle.

Her life was becoming an elevator, a roller coaster, a swing set, a seesaw. All of which she hated.

"I'm so tired, Ron," she sighed, covering her face with her hands once again.

"You want to go home?"

"No, I'm tired of all of what's going on between us," she amended.

"All of what's going on between us?" he repeated. She nodded. "There's nothing wrong between us."

"Nothing wrong?" she repeated. "Ron, we're fighting frequently, we make up, we're alright, and then we fight again. And that's supposed to be right?"

"We've always fought, Hermione. We've always bantered and fought once in a while." But he knew what she was talking about.

"But not like this," she sighed. "You know they weren't like this."

"No, they weren't," he admitted. He sighed. "That doesn't mean anything, though."

"You think so? You really think so?"

"Yeah, everyone fights once in a while. All friends, all couples fight."

She couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't keep her thoughts to herself when everything was messed up. "You're happy with all this? With how things between us are right now?"

"You're not?"

"Not entirely. How am I supposed to be happy when, half of the time, I'm either fighting with you or trying to avoid another argument?" she asked.

"Because, things balance themselves out," he explained.

"I just don't know if I can keep doing this anymore, Ron," she admitted, without letting herself think about the consequences of her words.

"What do you mean? You're giving up? On us?" he asked, looking at her in the eye. His heart fell down with her sight. "Hermione, come on."

"I don't know if I am, but I know we can't keep going like we are now," she sighed.

"Hermione, we're just going through a rough spot. Everyone fights from once in a while. It just happens that we're fighting in this period of our relationship." He stopped himself. "What's this about? Is it about the lack of communication while we're apart and how we're fighting when we're together? Are you sure it's about that?" She nodded. He sighed, seeing as she didn't seem to change her mind on the subject. If he "Look, I fucked up a few times, okay? It's just the way I am. That doesn't mean we can't fix it. Let's give us another chance, Hermione. Don't give up."

Hermione kept looking at a frozen, shriveled up plant at her feet. "I don't want to give up on us, Ron, but I'm not so sure about this. I already gave you a second chance, back then on that Quidditch game in November."

"Look, it's just this long distance thing, Hermione. Everyone says it's a load of shit, don't they? If we can hold out until June..."

"I don't think we can survive going through all this until June, Ron. I can't deal with this and my N.E.W.T.s at the same time."

"Hermione, don't give up."

"I'm not giving up, Ron," she sighed, gathering up her courage to be honest with her emotions. "I'm just hurt. You didn't tell me about this Auror thing, we fight too constantly for my liking, and we don't write enough because of our schedules. Alright, maybe it's this long distance thing. Maybe it's as rubbish as everyone says it is. Maybe it's not." She took a deep breath. "I'm hurt and tired. But I'm not giving up on us. I just think we need a break, even if I don't want to."

"It's just the distance, Hermione. I'm sure it's that," he pressed on.

She shook her head, her thoughts running wild. "Maybe. What if it's us? What if we don't work well together?"

"We don't work together? Hermione, have you seen us? We're amazing together!" he exclaimed.

"Yes, we worked well together as friends. But since we've been dating? I'm starting to think that, as a couple, we don't work well. Have we achieved anything? We were okay during the summer, but ever since I returned to Hogwarts, things have only gone downhill," she sighed.

"Don't let these last days cloud your judgement, Hermione. You know we're usually not like this," he pressed.

"Recently, we have."

"I don't know about you, Hermione, but from how I see it, we're not as bad as you think we are. And I've messed up, but I don't do well when people I love are thousands of miles apart," he pressed on.

"I don't think love has anything to do with this, Ron," she decided. "We don't work well together."

"What?"

"You heard me," she whispered. She winced.

"But-"

"Love doesn't mean everything, if that makes sense. It's important, but it's not everything," explained Hermione. She had to believe herself of what she was saying, but she had to organize the mess they'd made. "I love Harry, but I want to punch him when he's sulking around. I love Ginny, but she makes me crazy when I'm around her too much. You understand what I'm saying?"

Little did she know that he'd stopped properly listening at the mention of Harry. The only insecurity he ever had about her and their relationship, and she'd uncovered it unintentionally.

She'd said she loved Harry. If she loved him so much, why wasn't she with him? Because Harry only had eyes for Ginny and saw her as a sister? Was he second best once again?

No, surely if Hermione was with him, she had a reason. Aren't people supposed to date people they love?

He tried to remember a time where Hermione had told him that she loved him, but he couldn't. Had she ever even said it? Hermione was always very vocal when she cared about something. Did she even love him?

And suddenly, he didn't want to keep arguing anymore. He wanted to throw the towel. And so he did. Because love was love, and it didn't seem to matter shit anymore, at least according to her.

"So, you want to break up?" he asked. He ignored his resolution to keep his emotions from taking control. It seemed silly in a moment like this, were you couldn't be rational.

She sighed. He was giving up. She had hoped he would show her an argument that would make her change her mind, but he was now on the same boat she'd forced herself in.

"No, I think we should take a break," she said.

"And what the hell does that mean?"

"That we're together, but... we're apart," she replied. "We spend some time by ourselves."

"Isn't that almost the same of breaking up?" he asked. It would've been funny, but not in this occasion.

"No, because when you break up, you break up. When you take a break, you're still together... I see the similarity, however" she sighed.

"Look, I don't want to be confused by whatever's happening between us. I don't want to be, 'Am I talking too much? Am I supposed to see you off at King's Cross? Am I supposed to write to you?' Those sorts of things," he said. "I think taking a break would ensue that. This is not an ultimatum of any sort. I just want to know where I stand with you."

"So what are you suggesting?" she asked. It was an ultimatum, despite his words. She fought against the knot in her throat.

"Why don't we break up?" He forced himself to pronounce every word in that question. The following words were easier. "Just for now, but with the possibility of getting together once again."

Hermione noticed she was fiddling with the necklace he'd given her for her birthday. She sighed. When did things between them get so bad? "With the possibility of getting back together?"

"Yeah. Do you want to set a limit date or something?" he asked.

"Not exactly, but maybe we can talk about this next summer? After my N.E.W.T.s?" she asked. He nodded. "Okay. We're breaking up?"

"We're breaking up for now."

"We're breaking up now."

"We're broken up," nodded Ron. He was trying to grasp on and to let her stay, but it was too late. The words he'd said against his better judgement had done enough damage. He sighed, and watched his breath spiral away from him.

She fiddled with the necklace. He'd given her that necklace. She should probably return it. She unclasped it and held it out to him. He shook his head. "No, it's yours. Your birthday gift. Keep it."

She sighed, shoved it in her coat's pocket. She looked to the surroundings of the bench, wondering what they should do now. And that's when the absolute reality dawned on her. There wasn't any 'we' anymore.

"I guess I should go home, then." She stood up, the knot in her throat becoming bigger and tighter with every second that passed. But, no, she would not cry in front of him. She couldn't.

"Alright," he nodded. He had been looking off to nowhere in specific. This couldn't be happening to him. It couldn't.

"Goodbye."

He looked up at the word. That was it. There was no turning back. Despite his suspicions that she didn't love him, his belief that she could do better, the fact that she'd been the one to suggest the parting, he noticed that she looked sad. Was it because she knew she broke his heart with that sole word?

She looked down at him, still sitting in the bench. He had looked up at the word, but he said nothing. He looked as hearybroken as she felt. Hermione only hoped that he would say something, do something. But his next words crushed her last, remaining hope.

"Goodbye, Hermione."

She nodded and walked away to a spot between trees they sometimes used for Apparition.

She hoped he would call out her name and stop her, but he didn't. She didn't know that he had forgotten how to speak in the moment he most wanted to.

He hoped she would at least look back at him, but she didn't. He didn't know that she didn't want to look back and seen what she'd thrown away.

With a _pop_, they were separated.

She greeted her parents when she returned to her home, letting them know she'd arrived. Her voice sounded dull to her own ears. Thankfully, if they noticed, they kept silent. All she wanted was to be alone.

Hermione closed her bedroom's door, along with her eyes. She sat against it, and permitted her tears to fall.

Over in London, Ron was still sitting in the same bench. He was frozen on the spot. He didn't know why, but he couldn't move. Maybe it was because he was hoping that she would return soon.

But she didn't. When it came inevitable, he walked to his home.

He'd never been good at deciphering his own feelings, but he expected to feel something clear in a moment like this. He only knew that his heart was stone cold and the little firewhiskey he drank did nothing to fix it.

He noticed that a worried Harry and Ginny were talking to him. He felt himself shrug, and mutter:

"I lost her."

That night, and during the next few days, he had two repetitive thoughts. One, his bed sheets were too comfortable to set aside. And two, that he seemed to be in one of those movies where everything went wrong and the happy ending was nowhere near.

* * *

_A/N: So, um, no one kill me, please. But I'm not going to update this for around two weeks. I'm going on a trip/vacation. So, not next Monday because I'll be somewhere between Toronto and Montreal by then, I think. (Yes, I'm not sure of my schedule. It's a group thing, shush.) By the other Monday, I'm not sure if I'll have the next chapter ready, but it'll definitively be up on that week. So, not next week, but the other. And most probably not on Monday, but I'll try._

_So, um, yeah. Sorry. About all of that._

_I'll feel horrible if I don't thank you for your comments, feedback, and support, and just by reading all this in general. I'm sorry, again. -A_


	15. Heartbreak Hiatus

They missed each other. Not because she was at Hogwarts and he was in London, but because they were supposed to be together. The two of them knew it, yet the memory from their last talk in Boxing Day was still fresh in their mind.

Ron immersed himself in the Auror training. It wasn't just a distraction, as it also provided a way to release his frustration. Yes, maybe it caused more of it when he couldn't work out a tactic or a difficult spell, but he focused on it instead. He always thought about her during those late nights where he should've been sleeping. How could he sleep when he had their words haunting him?

She'd overreacted. He knew it then and he definitively knew it now. But why? Just because she was worried about him? He felt as if she'd not told him something. ...Not that he had the moral high-ground to tell her off about it.

He shouldn't have let her go. She overreacted and she was emotional, and he knew from experience that bad decisions were easily made in moments like those. He'd messed up, once again. He should've not agreed in her foolish plan to take a break or to break up whatever it was that she meant. He should've just let her cool down, and they would've both talked afterwards.

This would be so much easier if they could just talk. Not send letters to each other. Not talk in Hogsmeade trips or holidays with limited time. But just talk to each other.

He wondered if she would reply to his last letter. He guessed couples who'd broken up didn't send letters to each other, hoping for a probable talk in the next Hogsmeade trip. Yeah, maybe he wasn't fond of talking to her there, but it was the best he could do at the moment. He had to try.

It was almost two in the morning, a month after it all went wrong. Training started at eight, he remembered with a sigh.

_Shit._

Hermione had been tossing and turning in her bed, unable to fall asleep, despite the exhaustion that had prevented her to finish her Charms essay. She'd thought about what she would do with Ron, just like she always did late at night.

She would ask him to take her back, however pitiful it sounded in her mind. She wanted to be with him, but it was too much with the long distance, his training, and her N.E.W.T.s. If they could see each other more frequently, she would go to him as soon as she could. She couldn't, though. She would have to wait until May, after the N.E.W.T.s, to do it. It was just too much for her at the moment.

She pushed some curls off her face. Her attention shifted to the oversized, green sweater she wore to sleep. His.

She sighed.

She opened her bed curtains, and found Ginny's open and her bed empty. She walked down to the common room where she found her writing an essay.

Her attention was focused on the piece of parchment in front of her, but she acknowledged her friend's presence. "Gamp's Law essay. I told myself I would sleep after writing this but, damn it, it's too theoretical for me. I thought you were asleep?"

"Want to go to the kitchens?"

Ginny looked up. "It's just after two in the morning, Hermione. Aren't the kitchens out of bounds at this hour, magnificent Head Girl?"

"They are, but..." She sighed. "Well, I broke up with Ron a month ago. I miss him. I can't sleep at all. And since, for the first time, I feel claustrophobic here in the castle, I might as well go somewhere I barely go. That leaves the dungeons, the Astronomy tower, and the kitchens. The latter is warm and it has food. So, want to go to the kitchens with me? We can use the Map."

For the first time in the school year, Ginny saw the Hermione who wasn't afraid to get in a little trouble with her friends. About time, she thought as she smiled. "Let me get it."

It was in the kitchens around half an hour later, each with their hot cocoa, that Ginny asked the question that she'd wanted ever since the Hogwarts Express. "If you miss him so much, why don't you see each other on the next Hogsmeade trip? Send him an owl. It's also the Valentine's Day one, you can make it work."

"Actually, he already beat me to it," she admitted, her eyes fixed on her mug.

"What?"

"Sent me a letter last week, asking if we could see each other at Hogsmeade. If they didn't give him any last minute Auror work at training, or something like that, he said," she sighed.

"And what did you reply?"

Hermione drank from her mug, to avoid talking for just some seconds. "I haven't. You know how busy I've been."

"Not enough to write a yes or a no, Hermione," she retorted.

She sighed. She set her cup on the table between them and covered her face with her hands. "I don't know what to say. I really want to see him, I do. But I messed up horribly in the holidays, Ginny. I don't know if I can face him so soon and see what I did to him."

"He just wants to talk," shrugged Ginny. "It's not as if he's going to propose. You're making this more complicated than it is, you know."

She was met with another sigh. "I'm trying not to, but it's just..."

"Just what?"

"I'm behind on my studying schedule."

"You'll get back on track."

"So it's decided?"

"What is?"

"That I'm not going to Hogsmeade."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Harry told me in one of his letters that Ron barely talks to anyone unless he has to and only focuses on his training. You're basically the same way, Hermione, except with schoolwork. And didn't you say that you wanted to fix whatever it is that happened between you two? So, the sooner you talk, the sooner you fix it, the sooner you'll both be happy and back to normal. To do that, you need to be in Hogsmeade."

Hermione sighed. "You're right, I'll talk to him."

"How to convince Hermione Granger, written by Ginny Weasley," she smiled. "Chapter one, logical reasoning when she's being irrational."

"Oh, don't-"

"Be nice to me, I just helped you out," she smiled. Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile.

_We can fix it._

He forced himself to focus on the examinations. He could think about her after his simulation, where he had to focus. It would be so simple if they didn't have different obligations to attend to, which seemed to be determined to keep them from communicating. Not that they would succeed at it, either way.

Preparation took a long time. Not because she was busy, but because she was indecisive. It would be so simple if she knew what to do. Unfortunately, there was no book she could read that could teach her what to do in times like this. She was on her own on a day like this.

They managed to meet on the 15th of February, in the mid-afternoon of a Hogsmeade trip. The Three Broomsticks, with its inviting atmosphere and warm interior, was the place of their meeting. They found themselves sitting in a corner of the shop, two mugs of hot butterbeer between them.

"So, er," started Ron, "how's your classes?"

"Challenging. Lots of late night studying, throughout all of the week," said Hermione.

"When are the N.E.W.T.s?"

"Late May."

Ron nodded. He took a drink from his cup.

"And, um," she said, "how's your training?"

"Also challenging," he replied. "Had some tests today. We started with what's usually the second year of training a week ago."

"Have you gone on the field yet? If you can tell me, that is," she added.

"Once. We watched the perimeters of this manor in case something happened," he explained. "Nothing did." Hermione nodded. Her sight flickered from the cup between her hands, to Ron, and again to the cup. "Look, you want to go outside? Take a walk or something?"

"Alright."

They walked to around the village in silence, each deep in thoughts. Their feet led them to the surroundings (there's a word for this) of the Shrieking Shack. Fitting, they thought.

They sat by a boulder. Their mouths opened, as if to speak, but later closed, as if their words weren't good enough.

"Alright," sighed Hermione. He looked at her, and found her sight directed at her hands. "I overreacted. I was worried for you, and I still am. I didn't expect you to go on the field so soon. If something happened to you, when would I find out? With a letter from Harry some days later? And I wouldn't have done anything to help you. So, I freaked out, alright?"

"It's alright. I should've told you sooner. You were right about that. I, just..." He sighed. He clasped his gloved hands, resting his head above them. "You were happy and I didn't want to ruin that. Seems it was inevitable, though. And I wanted to be there when I told you, too, because I wanted to calm you down if you freaked out. I didn't do a good job at that, it seems."

"I didn't listen. Never gave you a chance to do explain well," she muttered. She observed him. His ginger hair escaped from his hat. He had dark circles under his eyes. He was more muscular than before. She didn't know what it was, but he looked older. As if he'd seen too much in his eighteen years, which was the truth. He raised his eyebrows. She didn't know why, but the realization gave her strength to say the words she was most scared of. "I didn't mean it."

"What?"

"I didn't mean most of what I said that night. I overreacted and I wasn't thinking correctly. They were just insecurities that I had. I knew they weren't true, but they were there and I said them without thinking them through," she explained, her words moving quickly. "That we don't work well because we're so different and we argue so much. That love doesn't mean everything. That we needed a break. I didn't mean that."

"Really?" She nodded. "I didn't think we needed to break up. The thing about the break still confuses me, to be honest, but it would've been a lot better than breaking up, I think. Do you know how many times I mentally kicked myself for letting you go? I don't know what came over me."

"Me neither. What came over me, I mean," she added.

"It's alright."

"It's not going to happen again," she said. "At least, I'll try my best to avoid something like that from happening."

"I'd like that. I'll try my best, too. So, we'll move on from this?" he asked, a small smile on his lips.

"I'd like to move on from this, yes," she smiled. "We're okay, then?"

"We're good." He looked at her, with her smile and grey hat. He smiled. "Can I kiss you?"

Hermione laughed as he wrapped her arms around her. She responded with a kiss. Her fingers caressed his cheek. He pulled apart just slightly and smiled. He rested his forehead against hers.

"Do you have an idea how weird it was not to greet you with a kiss back at The Three Broomsticks?"

"I think I have an inkling," she smiled.

They held onto each other. Their lips met once, twice, thrice, and so on. Their bodies moved closer to each other, until he pulled away.

"Hold on, I'm trying to figure something out." His eyes stayed on her, but they were unfocused as they become when one is deep in thought. He bit his lip and sighed. "I just thought of something. Don't freak out about this. Hear me out, alright? Maybe there's something we need to consider right now. Your N.E.W.T.s."

"What about them?"

"Look, I know how important they are for you. I know you want to focus on them and study well and all, so here's what I propose. Make them your priority. You focus on them all you want. Don't rush with replying to letters. It's alright if we don't see each other on the next Hogsmeade trip, with it so near the tests. Just remember to have a laugh once in a while, as well as you shouldn't forget to breathe. You do that and I'll wait," he said.

"It's not fair for you."

"I know how you need to get good marks. I'll be happy if you are."

"Are you sure about this?" He nodded. She smiled. "Alright. I'll see if we can see each other on Easter and the next Hogsmeade trip."

"But if not, it's alright."

"Exactly."

They walked back to the Hogwarts gates later on, arriving a few minutes before their closing. I need something here. Some sort of description.

They walked back to the Hogwarts gates, later on. It had gotten darker. The streets were almost bare, having most of the students already gone up to the castle. They walked hand in hand, closer to each other than the cold made it necessary, wide smiles. Not even the grouchy caretaker in front of them could snap them from their new happiness.

"So, we'll make this work?"

"There's only, what, four more months? I think we can manage."

"I'll write."

"If you can. Don't pressure yourself."

Hermione smiled as he wrapped his arms around her. He was around a head taller than she was. Her head always rested against his chest in times like this. His rested above hers, against her hair.

Hopefully, this new year would be fair to them both if they willed it to be.

* * *

_A/N: Sighs. Between Canada and having dengue a week after returning, this took some time. I'm writing this story backwards from now on and there's around a five-seven chapter difference from this one and the one I'm currently working with, which means I don't know when I'll post the next chapter. Hopefully by the end of September? I think I'll have them done by then, maybe sooner. If you ever want to ask me how the progress is, you can PM me or ask me via Tumblr. The link is on my profile._

_I was reading through your reviews (thanks, by the way), and I wanted to do a little bit of explaining. For some reason, I'd always imagined Ron and Hermione to be more of an on-and-off couple for a certain part of their relationship. The thing about them being in a relationship for five years without a big hitch? I'd never bought it much. I mean, it's Ron and Hermione. So the story will reflect a bit more of my opinion on how they would be than the fanon view that they were together ever since that kiss in the Battle._

_So yeah. Once again, thanks for all your support, from reading, following, and reviewing. It's very much appreciated. We'll see each other soon. -A_


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